


"CAT PEOPLE"

by EvilAdmin



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: An AU with claws and teeth, Attempted rape/non-con by a sibling, Brief mention of interspecies breeding involving a minor, Graphic descriptions of leopard attacks on people, Hannibal is not a cold-blooded killer or a cannibal in this one - and he actually likes animals, Incestuous longing, Light A/B/O Dynamics, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-cannon characterizations, Tagging too much spoils the plot, Very brief mention of animal death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 11:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 57,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18872599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilAdmin/pseuds/EvilAdmin
Summary: Four-year-old Will Brown’s world fell apart when his parents died, leaving him and his older brother, Matthew, orphaned.  Placed in separate foster homes, Will was eventually adopted by the Grahams and lost touch with his brother.  Now, sixteen years later, Matt has tracked him down and Will is thrilled to be back in New Orleans to reunite with his only blood relative.  But the Brown family has a dark secret, one that generations have protected at all costs and one that Will was too young to know about.  Unfortunately, this is the type of secret that can come back and, quite literally, bite you in the ass.A Hannibalized telling of the 1982 movie of the same name.





	1. Chapter 1

[](http://imgbox.com/Bgzfi44Q) [](http://imgbox.com/SFlzW8q7) [](http://imgbox.com/LxCtse6U)  

 

** Summer 1982 – Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport **

Will Graham exited the DC-10, hanging back in the terminal as he watched his fellow passengers met by the people waiting there for them.  He looked around anxiously, wondering if he would even recognize his brother, Matthew.  He had been only four when he saw him last, and that had been almost sixteen years ago. 

He nervously smoothed down the front of his light blue dress shirt, having indulged and bought the shirt a couple days ago so he would look his best for his reunion with his brother.  He dabbed at a bit of perspiration on his upper lip with the back of his hand and ultimately decided to roll up his sleeves.  He could already tell that it was a lot hotter here than it was in Wolf Trap. 

All around him there was laughter, and a few tears too.  People were hugging and kissing and shaking hands, and everybody was smiling.  He spotted the alpha who had been sitting next to him on the plane and quickly turned away, not wanting to make eye contact with the man and have him possibly come over and offer him a ride.  When the man initially started talking to him on the plane, Will had been happy enough for the distraction.  He had introduced himself as Howard and he was a salesman who traveled all over selling novelty gifts to store chains.  As such, he had a lot of amusing job stories, which had helped make the trip go by faster.  But then toward the end of the flight Howard had started leaning toward him and asking questions that became increasingly personal, and some of the comments he made were full of barely veiled innuendo. 

Sitting by the window in his narrow seat with the alpha leaning toward him, Will had started feeling trapped, so he had been relieved when the seat belt sign had come on and the Capitan announced over the loudspeaker they were making their final approach.  The alpha had had to lean away from him and sit back in his seat to fasten his seat belt. 

Will was surprised to see Howard greeted by a plump, pretty woman with two energetic children.  So the pig had a family and had still been coming on to him.  He pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket that the man had pressed into his hand before he could exit the plane stating, “If you need anything—and I do mean  _anything_ —you call me.”  Walking to the nearest trash can, he dropped the card in it and wiped his hand on his beige chinos as if the card had been tainted by its owner. 

Will turned and watched the alpha put his arm around his wife and children and leave the airport.  He let out a sigh of relief that the man was gone but felt a twinge of envy watching him leave with his family.  Will had been thinking a lot about family lately and wondered if he would ever meet that special someone.   

As the last of the passengers left the arrival area and there was still no sign of Matt, Will began to feel uneasy about standing there alone, as though unseen eyes were watching him.  He saw a sign indicating the direction for baggage claim and thought maybe Matt was waiting down there for him as they hadn’t really clarified where exactly they would meet.  He was probably down there right now wondering where Will was.  Either way, Will had to pick up his suitcase. 

Following the sign, he took the escalator down to the baggage claim area.  It was a cold and impersonal space with a concrete floor and big metal turntables onto which the luggage slid from a chute.  He recognized some of the passengers from his flight standing around the perimeter of one particular turntable waiting to seize their own bags as they rode past, and he headed toward it. 

Will stood at the rear of the crowd, searching the faces for someone who might be Matthew.  Little by little the people melted away, and there were only a few forlorn pieces of luggage still revolving on the turntable.  One of them was his battered suitcase, so he hoisted it off the turntable and set it on the floor.  He had packed a lot into the bag and it was heavier than it looked.  As he started to pick it up again, thinking he should look for a payphone and see if perhaps Matt had gotten the time or date wrong, a smiling young man strode toward him from the far side of the room.  He had a clean-cut, collegiate look.  Will felt a twinge of excitement, but then realized right away that this man was not his brother.  He was too young for one thing, closer to his own age, and the eyes were wrong.  He remembered Mattie having beautiful green eyes and this man’s eyes were brown.  Still, the man was walking toward him, so maybe Matt had been unable to make it and had sent a friend to pick him up.   Will smiled tentatively at the man and waited. 

“Hello, there,” the young man said.  “How are you?” 

“All right,” Will said carefully, realizing that the man was an alpha now that he was standing close to him.   

“Well you sure look all right to me, but I guess there’s none of us who couldn’t be just a little bit better.  Am I right?” 

Will’s smile faltered and he didn’t know what to say to that. 

“That being said, I want to make you a present of this book, a gift beyond measure.” 

For the first time Will noticed that the young man was carrying a stack of slim green volumes cradled in one arm.  The man slipped one off the top of the stack and held it out to Will. 

“Go ahead and take it.  It’s absolutely free.  No obligation.  Just a little something from me to you in the spirit of universal brotherhood.” 

Will felt disappointment that this man wasn’t sent by his brother.  Again he wondered where Matt could be.  He glanced down at the title stamped in gold on the cover of the book:  _Achieving Everlasting Peace and Harmony_.  “I don’t think I can accept it,” Will said. 

“Please,” the young man coaxed, continuing to smile.  “As I said, it’s a gift, no obligation.  But if you do wish to make a donation, it will go to a good cause, and I can assure you it will be appreciated.” 

“Thank you, but no,” Will said, and started to move away, but the young alpha danced sideways to block his path.  His smile hardened at the edges. 

“If you’ll just take the time to look through the book, I think you’ll be surprised at what you see.  It might very well change the entire course of your life, as it has so many others.” 

“I’m sorry,” Will said softly but firmly, “but I’m really not interested.  Now, I’m supposed to be meeting someone and they’re probably looking for me, so please let me pass.”  Maybe he should just go outside and take a taxi. 

Again he tried to get past the young alpha, and again the man moved to block his way.  He was now standing uncomfortably close to him. 

“Here.”  He thrust the book at him.  “I’m offering it to you free.  A gift.  Read just a little of what the prophet has to tell us.”  His manner turned subtly threatening.  “Or aren’t you interested in the way to finding everlasting peace and harmony?” 

“The only thing I’m interested in is finding my brother.  Now please let me pass,” Will told him, trying to sound stern.  “I don’t want your book.” 

Will yipped in surprise as the man moved swiftly and took hold of his elbow.  He saw the man’s nostrils flare and the look of interest in his eyes and felt a touch of panic.  He looked around the baggage area for someone he might appeal to for help, but the few people in sight were standing well away from them and were absorbed with their own affairs.  There was no one who looked like he might work for the airport.  No policemen. 

“Well I don’t see any brother,” the man said, looking around as well.  “It looks like you’re all alone here,” he said, lowering his voice.  “Why don’t I give you a lift?  You can come back to my place and I can show you some of the more meaningful passages in the book,” he said, far too close, his breath warm and moist on Will’s face.   

_“Let him go!”_

The deep, commanding voice coming from close behind him startled Will.  The young alpha jumped and quickly released his grip on Will’s arm and stepped back, staring at whoever was standing behind him. 

Will turned and saw a man, about twenty-six, wearing a dark suit and a clerical collar.  The man’s eyes flashed with a dangerous anger. 

“I was only offering him a book,” the young man said. 

“I know what you were offering him, and I am telling you to leave him alone.  _Now_.” 

The young alpha’s face turned red with anger and embarrassment, but he spun away and hurried off with his stack of books through the door leading outside the terminal. 

Will smiled at the man, feeling relieved.  “Thank you.  I wasn’t sure what he was going to do.” 

“Most of them are harmless, but they can be a real nuisance.”  He gestured toward Will’s suitcase.  “May I help you with that?” 

Will glanced around uncertainly.  “Well, uh, I’m waiting for someone.  He was supposed to meet me here.” 

The other man smiled at him.  “What’s the matter, Will, don’t you recognize me?” 

Will looked at him more closely now.  “Matt?  Is that really you?” he said, looking for anything familiar, and then broke out in a big grin when he looked into a pair of vivid green eyes, the same eyes he remembered when they were children.  “Mattie, it is you!” Will said, closing the distance between them and throwing himself into his brother's arms for a hug.  Matt’s cheek was smooth and cool.  He had a sharp, clean scent of shaving lotion, but underneath that was a warm alpha scent.  Will breathed his brother’s scent in deeply, feeling safe now.  His brother’s body was surprisingly hard and muscular against his. 

Matt released him abruptly and stepped back.  “No one’s called me Mattie since I was a child,” he said, smiling wistfully.  But just look at you!  You’re as tall as me now,” he said, looking Will over.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t upstairs to meet your flight.  I got hung up in traffic.” 

“That’s all right, we’re together now.”  Will let his eyes run over him.  He pointed to the clerical collar.  “I didn’t know you were a … a …” 

“A man of God?”  He laughed.  “Actually I’m just a lay minister.  I do what I can to help out at the Tabernacle Mission in the French Quarter.” 

“How did you happen to … I mean, how did that come about?” 

His eyes grew serious.  “I went through a bad period where I lived the kind of life that I’m really ashamed of now.  I just decided one day that it was time I balanced the books.”  He touched the collar.  “If this bothers you I can take it off.” 

Will hugged him again.  “No, of course not.  I think it’s wonderful, and I’m just so glad to see you.  We have so much to talk about, so much to catch up on.” 

“Yes, little brother, we do.” 

Matt picked up Will’s heavy suitcase as though it were filled with feathers, threw his arm around his brother’s shoulders and led him out of the terminal. 

 

As Matthew drove in toward the city, Will sat forward in his seat, looking around, trying to find something familiar. 

“What do you think of the old home town?” Matt asked.  “If we can call it that.” 

“It’s like I’m seeing it for the first time.” 

“That’s not surprising.  We were always on the road and never did spend a lot of time here, and you were just four years old the last time the family was all together.” 

“The city looks so new.  Not like I imagined it at all.” 

Matt laughed.  “A lot of it is.  A lot of new housing going up.  And all the big hotel chains have buildings here now—the Hilton, Hyatt, Marriott.  We also have high-rise apartments and condominiums.  Yes, New Orleans has a skyline now.” 

“I hope they didn’t destroy all the old things to make way for the new,” Will said. 

“Oh, no, the city is still a mixture of the old and the new.  Tomorrow I’ll take you on a tour of downtown and show you some _really_ old New Orleans.  The Vieux Carré, the Old Square.” 

“Is that the French Quarter?” 

“Right.  Founded in 1718 by Sieur de Bienville.  I guarantee you’ll get your fill of local history there.” 

“I’d like that,” Will said, excited about the idea of spending the day touring the city with his brother. 

As they drove on they left the modern bustling city and were cruising along St. Charles Avenue between the elegant old houses set back on sweeping lawns.  The late-afternoon sun dappled the graceful mansions as it filtered through stately elm trees. 

“What a lovely street,” Will said. 

“Our house isn’t quite as impressive as these,” Matt said, “but it’s a whole lot better than living in a trailer like we did when we toured with the circus.” 

After another mile Matthew brought the car to a stop.  Across the sidewalk from them was a tall, spiked iron fence.  Beyond the fence, partially hidden by untrimmed elm trees, stood a two-story brick house with a pillared portico at the end of a short walk.  A balcony with a wrought-iron railing extended across the entire upper floor.  The windows Will could see were clouded.  The yard needed tending.  The place had a remote, lonely look, as though nobody lived there. 

“Does the old place stir any memories?” Matthew asked. 

Will shook his head.  “I guess I was too young to form memories.  It does look like something I’ve seen in my dreams, though.” 

“Well, maybe that’s the same thing.” 

They got out of the car, Matthew once again effortlessly lifting the heavy bag.  He held the gate for Will and they walked through the fence and up the path to the front door. 

The door opened just as they reached it and a tall, regal woman wearing a long, full skirt, a silk blouse, and a colorful scarf on her head was standing there looking at Will.  Her skin was a flawless café au lait, her eyes black and shiny. 

“You’re here at long last.  I’m so glad,” she said, surprising Will by pulling him through the front door and into a surprisingly strong hug.  “Oh, let me look at you,” she said, holding Will at arm’s length.  “Oh, your hair is so pretty,” she exclaimed, touching his curls. 

“Femolly, this is my brother, Will.” 

“I can see that.  He has his mother’s eyes.  Oh, Matthew, he’s so pretty!”  Turning to Will she said, “Your brother’s been driving me crazy waiting for you.” 

“Femolly keeps me out of trouble,” he said to Will. 

“And that’s a full-time job, you better believe it,” she said laughing.  

Will looked around the high-ceilinged entrance hall with its dark wood and filtered sunlight.  There was a musty, old smell to the place, and beneath that something else.  Something raw. 

“Femolly doesn’t fit the usual image of the faithful family retainer, does she?” Matt said.  “Just don’t let her start bossing you around or she’ll be insufferable.” 

“Don’t you listen to that brother of yours, child,” Femolly said.  “He’s just a lot of fancy talk.  You should have seen him moping around here the last couple of weeks just like a little boy, waiting for his brother to come home where he belong.”  

Will looked at Matt and smiled shyly while Matt looked slightly embarrassed.  

“Don’t you worry, child, you and me gonna get along just fine.  Won’t neither of us take any foolishness from this preacher-man brother of yours.” 

Femolly made a point of turning a disapproving frown on Matthew, but Will could not miss the deep affection the woman felt for his brother. 

“I’m sure we’ll do just fine,” Will said. 

The tall woman beamed at him.  “Matthew, you show your brother where he can get washed up while I get the food ready.  We gonna have us a real New Orleans dinner.” 

“See what I told you about her getting bossy?” Matthew said. 

Femolly gave Matt a swat on his arm and Will laughed while he followed Matt to the downstairs bathroom. 

 

The aroma of the food had Will’s stomach grumbling as he sat at the long table across from Femolly.  Matt sat at the head of the table and said a prayer, giving thanks for the food, and a special added thanks for having his brother back with him.  Then from a heavy china tureen Femolly ladled out steaming plates of thick gumbo with big chunks of white crabmeat and tender oysters in it.  For dessert there was a sinfully rich pecan pie with a pot of hot chicory-flavored coffee to wash it all down. 

Will pushed back from the table with a long, contented sigh.  “How on earth do you stay in such good shape with this kind of food, Matt?” 

“Exercise,” he said.  “I try to run every day.  And I ride a bicycle.” 

“So, Will, what are your plans now that you’re back home with your brother?” Femolly asked. 

“I’m going to start looking for a job for one thing.” 

“There’s no hurry about that, is there?”  Matt said. 

“I’m out of art school now and it’s time I started paying my way.  Thank you for buying my plane ticket, by the way.  I’ll pay you back, I promise.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Matthew said.  “It was something I wanted to do.  I wanted to bring you home sooner but, well, there were complications here that prevented me from even coming to see you.” 

Will was touched by his sincerity.  “Never mind, Mattie, we’re together now.” 

“Yes,” he said, “and we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”  He sat back in his chair and looked at Will.  “Apparently we both survived being in foster homes without any serious damage.  And you eventually got adopted, cute little omega that you always were,” he teased.  

“Yes, being in foster homes was never a lot of fun,” Will said, frowning, “but the couple who eventually adopted me were good people.  I swear to you, Mattie, that I tried to talk them into adopting you as well.  I begged and pleaded, but they said they could only afford to adopt me.  The Grahams were good people, but they didn’t have a lot of money or a lot of room.  The house we lived in was essentially a log cabin out in the sticks.  I’m just sorry we lost touch for all these years.” 

“Well it won’t happen again,” Matthew told him.  You’re home now.”  He looked over at the six-foot grandfather clock tick-tocking sedately in a corner of the room.  “I suppose you’re tired after the plane ride.” 

“I am, a little, but I’m much too excited to go to sleep just yet.” 

“There’s no rush.  We keep pretty liberal hours around here.  Come on upstairs and I’ll show you your room and let you get unpacked.” 

While Femolly cleared away the dinner dishes, Will followed Matt up the broad stairway to the second floor.  Will slowed to look at the paintings that were hung along the staircase wall.  They were strange primeval landscapes of jungles and desert.  The paintings were heavy with shadows in which living things seemed to lurk just out of sight.  The paintings made him feel inexplicably strange, and he found his heart beating faster. 

“Are you coming?” Matthew called from up on the landing. 

Will pulled his gaze from the paintings.  “Right behind you.” 

Matthew was waiting for him in front of an open door along a short hall.  Will went past him into a small, immaculate room.  There was a full-size bed in a heavy wooden frame, a wardrobe chest, a bureau with plenty of drawer space, and a bedside table with a lamp on it.  A set of double doors opened to a balcony at the front of the house.  A fresh breeze stirred the white gauze curtains. 

“I love it,” Will said, looking around. 

“You’ll probably want to decorate it to your own taste once you’re moved in.  Feel free to make any changes you want.” 

“Matt, I’m not sure I’ll be staying here that long,” Will said. 

A shadow crossed Matt’s face.  “Not staying here?  What do you mean?  This is your house as much as it is mine.  Besides, you just got here.” 

“It’s just that I’m 20 years old now and an adult and I might want a place of my own.  A little apartment, maybe.  Start exerting my independence,” he said, smiling.   

Matthew dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand.  “There’ll be plenty of time to talk about that later on.  Now, I have a present for you that I think you’ll like,” he said, walking to the bedside table and picking up a small framed photo and handing it to Will. 

Will looked at a picture of a handsome young couple—the man in whipcord breeches and boots, the woman in spangled tights.  They were standing in front of a circus wagon with a black leopard inside.  “Is this our mother and father?” Will asked excitedly. 

“Yes.  Notice how much they look like us?” 

Will studied the photograph.  It was true, especially around the eyes.  Allowing for differences in hair style and makeup over the past twenty years, the Phillip and Nora Brown in the picture could have been him and Matt. 

Will ran his fingers lightly over the glass, staring in awe at faces he hadn’t seen since he was four years old and couldn’t really remember.  His fingers stopped as they brushed over the leopard. 

“My, he’s a fierce-looking creature,” Will said. 

“Father worked with the big cats.  He was the best in the business,” Matt said proudly.  “Of all cats the black leopard is the most difficult to tame.” 

“Well I love it, Mattie, thank you,” Will said smiling.  

 “You don’t mind being reminded of them, do you?” 

“No, it’s all right.  I know all about how they died, but I don’t remember it.  I suppose you’d call it a psychological block.” 

“I’d call it a blessing,” Matthew said.  “I really loved it, you know.  The circus, I mean.  I was training to be a performer.” 

“No, I didn’t.” 

“Oh, yes.” 

Without changing his expression, Matthew took a step back and suddenly flipped over backwards.  Will gasped in surprise.  Matt hit the floor with the flat of his hands, flexed, and bounced catlike back to his feet.  He grinned at Will boyishly. 

Will laughed and clapped his hands.  “Oh my god, that was wonderful!” 

“I think I would have made a pretty fair acrobat, don’t you?” 

“If that’s a taste, you’d have been terrific.” Will said.  “A star performer, no doubt about it.” 

After several seconds of awkward silence Will said, “You know, while I was still in foster care I used to fantasize about you.” 

“Really?” Matt said smiling, looking intrigued.  “What kind of fantasies?” 

“Oh, you know, that you would come tapping at my bedroom window in the middle of the night and tell me to pack my things, that you were taking me away.  And we would find this beautiful, and conveniently empty, cabin in the middle of the woods where we would live and no one would bother us and we would be happy together.” 

“The two of us living alone together in a cabin in the woods.  That does sound nice,” Matthew said wistfully. 

“It was just a child’s dream,” Will said embarrassed.  “Of course we were much too young to take care of ourselves.  In my dream you would go out hunting, bring home rabbits and squirrels and things for us to eat.”  

“And what would you be doing while I was out hunting our dinner,” Matt asked teasingly. 

“Oh, you know,” Will shrugged, “keep the place clean and start a fire in the fireplace so we could cook the food you brought home, things like that.” 

“Well as far as dreams go, it was a very nice one.  Too bad it couldn’t have gone that way,” Matt said softly. 

“Yes, too bad,” Will said smiling, feeling a bit flustered at how closely Matt was watching him. 

“Well, I think I’m ready to go to bed now,” Will said, turning away and trying to make it casual. 

“If you need anything, my room’s right next door,” Matthew said.  “Just pound on the door.” 

“Thank you, Mattie,” he said, walking up and hugging him. 

Matt held him for a moment, his face in Will’s neck.  Will could feel the heat of Matt’s hands on his back through the material of his cotton shirt, his warm breath on the side of his throat.  It made him vaguely uncomfortable. 

As though he sensed his uneasiness, Matthew stepped back and smiled at him easily.  “Good night, little brother.  I’m glad you’re home.” 

“Good night, Mattie,” he said.  “I’m glad too.” 

 

Will found he was even more tired than he thought and decided to save the rest of the unpacking until tomorrow.  He stripped down to his boxers since the night was hot and there was no central air in the old building, and opened the balcony doors all the way hoping that a breeze would find its way in here.  He then climbed into bed and sank gratefully into the soft mattress. 

But he did not sleep.  The creaks and groans and sighs of the old house were foreign to his ears, and had to be identified one by one.  Outside a branch of an elm tree rustled against the iron bars of the balcony railing. 

Finally he dozed off, but almost immediately sat up, wide awake, heart pounding.  He had an overpowering sensation of being watched.  The room was totally black.  Looking toward the balcony doors he thought he could see a shadow there that was darker than the surrounding night. 

“Who’s there?” he called. 

There was no answer. 

Did the shadow move?

Will fumbled for the lamp that stood on the bedside table.  He found it and switched it on, flooding the room with light.  Nothing lurked outside the balcony doors except the gentle waving branch of the elm tree. 

Will put out the light and lay back down.  Nerves, he told himself.  It had been a long, eventful day.  Nothing was out there watching him.  Still, it was a long time before he fell into a fitful sleep. 

As Will finally fell asleep, a shadow separated itself from the other shadows beside his balcony door and disappeared over the balcony railing.  It landed lightly two stories down and disappeared into the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you choosing to read my story. If you enjoyed the first chapter, I hope you'll subscribe and follow along as the story unfolds. I plan to post two chapters per week as the story is pretty much written. Your comments are always welcome and kudos are very much appreciated if you feel I deserve them. -EA


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for your comments and kudos. :)

It was late and Freddie Lounds was tired. 

 _Too much time on my feet today_ , she thought with grim humor _, and not enough on my back_. 

She paused on her way down Bourbon Street to look into the window of an X-rated bookstore.  There was a heavy crimson drapery behind the glass to give the customers inside a measure of privacy while they browsed the vast assortment of magazines catering to many unique tastes.  It also provided a good reflection for people passing on the street. 

Freddie frowned at the image that looked back at her.  Christ, she was showing all of her twenty-nine years tonight.  All right, thirty-three years.  Hooking was a young girl’s profession.  What she dreamed of was latching on to some well-fixed john who would put her up in a little pad of her own and give her spending money.  Not a whole lot, just enough to buy little things now and then. 

The whore’s dream, she thought bitterly.  Fat chance of it ever coming true.  Definitely not taking calls from the crummy massage parlors on Bourbon Street.  When Brian Zeller had called her tonight, she felt like telling him where he could stick his business.  But she could hardly turn down the extra money.  She had to pay rent and buy food just like everyone else. 

She patted her stylish Farrah Fawcett-style honey-blonde wig, turned away from the window, and click-clacked on up the street on her four-inch spiked heels.  The tourist crowd was way off tonight.  There was no convention in town, nothing going on in the Superdome.  Just a lot of kids looking to score some dope, and the usual well-dressed Japanese who took pictures of everything in sight but didn’t buy much. 

At the corner of Conti Street she passed the New Original Dixie Bar.  Inside the open door four ancient black men honked out a brand of jazz that was even older than they were.  Their faces were bored and empty of expression, their thoughts somewhere far away.  The tourists inside didn’t care.  They drank their hurricanes and stomped their feet in time with the Dixieland music as though it were being invented on the spot. 

Freddie hurried on past two more bars, a pawn shop, and a hole-in-the-wall theater playing _Deep Throat_.  She stopped at a six-foot street level sign that read:  _Pleasure Dome Massage Parlor 1 Flight Up – Satisfaction Guaranteed – Special French & Oriental Body Massage._  Then, just in case people still didn’t get the message:  _Private Rooms Available—Young Attractive Girls!!!_  

Two motorcycle types wearing denim jackets with the sleeves cut off to show their tattoos lounged in the doorway, blocking her way.  They passed a joint back and forth while they stared at her.  Neither bothered moving and she had to squeeze past them through the doorway while one tried to cop a feel.  “Touching don’t come free, asshole,” she called back, checking to make sure that her wig was still on straight.  One of the men actually started giggling.  Giggling.  Fucking stoners. 

Freddie climbed a gritty flight of stairs that led to the Pleasure Dome.  At the top of the stairs was a small lobby lit with red bulbs and smelling of strawberry incense.  Brian Zeller sat on a stool behind a high counter with a glass of some type of cheap liquor engrossed in a porn magazine.  She’d caught him whacking off more than once behind the counter. 

 He looked up from the magazine and said “You’re late.  You’re lucky this john’s patient.  He’s been in there forty-five minutes.” 

“I got here as quick as I could.  I wasn’t planning on working anymore tonight.” 

“Hey, if you don’t want these calls, just say so.  There’s plenty of others I could call who want the dough.” 

“I want the calls, Brian,” she said tiredly.  “Come on, I do the best I can.” 

“Well get on in there and service the guy.  He’s in room twelve.” 

Freddie walked down the dimly lit hallway, stopping at the linen closet to take out a couple of clean towels.  Soft rock music was playing over the tinny speakers Brian had installed.  She walked on to a pink-painted door marked 12.  She let out a sigh, adjusted her cleavage so the girls were front and center, showing to their best advantage, licked her red painted lips, put on a sexy smile, and walked in. 

“Hi, sorry I’m la—“ 

She stopped just inside the door and looked around.  There was the bed, cheap bureau with a mirror, single chair…and nobody.  She was going to be royally pissed if she came all the way down here for nothing. 

Then she saw a man’s dark suit neatly folded on the chair and relaxed.  The door to the tiny bathroom was closed, and a seam of light showed along the bottom.  So the john was either using the facilities or he was modest. 

She walked over and tapped on the door.  “Freddie’s here, honey, so come on out whenever you’re ready.” 

No answer. 

Freddie signed.  She hoped this john wasn’t going to be one of those who had to be coaxed.  They knew what they came in here for.  Why didn’t they just get to it? 

She pulled the dress off over her head and laid it over the back of the chair. 

“Did they fill you in on the prices?” she said to the bathroom door.  “The straight massage is twenty-five dollars.  I mean, for twenty-five dollars you get a massage and that’s it.  Tipping is allowed if you want any extras or personal services, if you know what I mean.” 

The guy had damn well _better_ want some extra personal services, Freddie thought.  It would really suck if she had left a comfortable chair and a good movie on TV, squeezed her swollen feet back into these shoes, and traipsed all the way down here to Bourbon Street for some yoyo who only wanted a _massage_.  She had heard of that happening to others. 

As she laid her dress across the back of the chair Freddie saw the bulge of a wallet in the back pocket of the man’s folded pants.  With a glance at the still-closed bathroom door, she slipped it out deftly and opened it up as she continued to talk. 

“For the straight massage you get ten minutes.  The extras depend on how complicated you want to get.” 

The wallet contained a thick, unorganized sheaf of bills.  Oddly, there was no identification.  She slipped out a twenty-dollar bill and tucked it into her purse, then replaced the wallet. 

“We honor all the major credit cards—Visa, MasterCard, American Express, but they’re good for the massage only.” 

She heard a soft scraping sound and quickly smoothed out the man’s pants where they lay. 

“Tips are strictly on a cash basis.” 

She unhooked her bra and draped it over the top of her dress.  Looking at herself in the mirror, Freddie examined her breasts critically.  They were small but shapely.  Recently she had been thinking about getting silicone implants to make them bigger.  They said the process was perfectly safe now.  It could be done in the doctor’s office.  Freddie decided her boobs were fine.  At her age she wouldn’t be doing this much longer anyway.   

She checked the wig again, tucking away an errant red curl that had escaped.  In her line of work redheads were rarely requested.  Blondes were requested the most, so she had eventually broken down and bought a wig.  It was hot and itched like crazy, but she had picked up more business since she got it. 

She sat down on the bed and ran her hands down along her legs.  They were her best feature.  Her thighs felt warm and resilient under the black fishnet stockings.  She would leave the stockings, garter belt, and heels on for now.  A lot of men found that a turn-on, and the heels made her look taller and more statuesque. 

She stood up and patted her stomach.  A little rounder than she would have liked, but firm. 

“Come on out, honey,” she called.  “We’ve already used up five minutes of your time.” 

She sat back down on the side of the bed, impatiently tapping her foot.  She just wished this john would get out here so she could get this over with and go back home and relax.  She had no patience for games tonight.  Something brushed her ankle and she gasped and quickly pulled her feet up onto the bed, scooting backward.  _What the hell?  If there were rats in this place, she was going to give that prick Brian a piece of her mind.  She hated rats._

Getting on her knees, she tentatively peaked over the side of the bed as if expecting to see a rat standing on its hind legs ready to leap at her.  What she saw instead was something else.  Thick and dark, looking like a length of black rope, it stuck out from under the bed. 

_Just what the hell is that?  If this guy is into bondage, she was leaving right now.  Brian knew she didn’t do bondage.  She had let this big alpha tie her up once, and the sonofabitch had nearly strangled her to death before she could get enough air in her lungs to call out to Brian for help.  Never again.  Brian could get somebody else in here, like crazy Agnes.  That bitch was totally into kinky shit like that._

As she got off the bed and stood up, she nudged the black rope with her foot. 

It moved. 

Freddie sprang back away from the bed as though it were electrified.  She stared at the black thing that now flicked slowly back and forth. 

Jesus, whatever it was, it was alive.  Then something in the room growled. 

“Holy shit!”  

Freddie began snatching up her clothes as fast as she could as the growl came again, deep and menacing. 

The narrow bed shuddered and began to tilt as though something under it were trying to stand up.  Something huge and powerful. 

Freddie dropped her clothes and made a dash for the door.  “Oh my God, oh my God!” she whimpered, in full-fledged panic mode now.   

She had her hand on the knob when the bed went over with a crash and something grabbed her stockinged foot and pulled.  Her hand slipped off the doorknob and she fell on her stomach as whatever it was that had a hold of her ankle started dragging her backwards.   

Freddie screamed then in pain and terror.  _Don’t look back at it_ , she told herself, _or it will never let you go_.  She tried to stand and lunge for the door with her foot still held fast.  She caught hold of the slippery doorknob and fought to make it turn.  There was the crunch of bone and a pop as her Achilles tendon gave way under the growling assault of the thing that held her. 

At last the doorknob turned in her hand and she managed to pull her foot free.  The door swung open and Freddie stumbled through it, slamming it behind her.  She fell into the arms of a frightened Brian Zeller, who had coming running when he heard her screams.  Something heavy thumped then against the door from the other side, making them both jump.  There was a growl that rose to a roar of fury. 

“What the fuck—!” Brian began. 

“GET ME OUT OF HERE!   _GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!_ ” Freddie screamed, eyes wide with terror. 

Brian half-dragged, half-carried Freddie back along the hallway toward the stairs, casting fearful glances behind him in case whatever was in that room got out. 

When they came to the counter where Brian sat, he lowered Freddie onto the stool and picked up the phone receiver with shaking hands to call the police.  Freddie, shivering and numb with shock, looked down at her foot then.  The front of it was gone—all the toes, the ball of her foot, leaving only a bloody stump of heel.  The ankle was ripped open, exposing shattered bone and tendon.  She screamed once more, then darkness took her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join me for the next chapter when the curator of the New Orleans Zoo is called upon to deal with a rather unusual large animal control issue—the curator being a man by the name of Dr. Hannibal Lecter (that would be doctor of zoology). :)


	3. Chapter 3

In a small but elegant house on Burgundy Street, just over two miles from the Pleasure Dome Massage Parlor, Dr. Hannibal Lecter peered intently down into a glass case.  His attention was totally absorbed by an evil-looking Gila monster that was crawling lethargically across the sand that covered the bottom of the case. 

“I think he’s going to be all right,” Hannibal said, without turning to look at the woman sitting on the couch across the room.  “He’s showing more life tonight than he did yesterday.  If he continues to show improvement, I think we’ll have Toki back on display by the first of next week.” 

“Glad to hear it,” said Alana Bloom.  She made no effort to keep the boredom out of her voice.  Alana was an attractive beta with thick, wavy dark brown hair, dazzling blue eyes, and a generous mouth that looked great when she smiled.  Alana was not smiling now. 

Hannibal turned away from the big lizard at last and looked at her.  “I thought you would be glad to hear he’s doing better.” 

She got up and came over to where he was standing and put her arms around his waist, looking up at him.  “Believe me,” Hannibal, I’m really glad that Toki is feeling better.  I just wish that sometimes you would look at me with the same concern you show the animals.” 

Hannibal started to say something, but Alana went on. 

“I know a lot of people take work home from the office with them, but a briefcase full of papers isn’t the same thing as a very large lizard.” 

“It’s your work too, you know,” he said. 

“I know, and it’s an honor being chief assistant to one of the finest, not to mention most handsome, zoo curators in the country.  I just think it would be nice if the curator could tear himself away from his four-footed friends long enough to notice that one of his two-footed friends has a new hairdo.” 

“I did notice, and it’s lovely,” Hannibal said, smiling down at her. 

“The stylist told me it’s almost impossible to mess it up.  Why don’t we try it out?” she said suggestively, moving her body against his.   

“I suppose we could conduct an experiment … in the name of science,” he said, drawing her in close for a kiss.  They were just getting well into the kiss when the old iron knocker on the front door sounded its clank-clank-clank. 

“Who could that be at this hour?” Hannibal said, frowning. 

“If it’s the aardvark with a sore throat, I’m leaving,” Alana said. 

Hannibal gave her an “I-can’t-do-anything-about-it” look and crossed the living room to open the door. 

A broad-shouldered black man in a suit stood outside under the coach light.  Behind him in the street a blue and white New Orleans Police car idled, the lights blinking on its roof bar. 

“Dr. Lecter?” the man asked. 

“I am Dr. Lecter.” 

“I’m Sergeant Jack Crawford, New Orleans P.D.,” he said, holding out his wallet to display the shield of the city police and his picture.  “May I come in?” 

Hannibal moved aside and the sergeant stepped into the cozy living room.  He nodded to Alana, who was standing by the glass case with the Gila monster inside. 

“What can I do for you, Sergeant Crawford?” Hannibal asked. 

“I think we might have one of your cats down at the Pleasure Dome Massage Parlor.” 

Hannibal’s eyebrows shot up.  “Is this some kind of joke?” 

“I’m a police officer on duty, Dr. Lecter.  I don’t make jokes.” 

“Of course,” Hannibal said apologetically.  “One of my cats … at the Pleasure Dome, you say.” 

“We’ve about narrowed it down to you.  All the cats at Audubon are accounted for, there’s no circus or wild animal show playing within two hundred miles, and citizens don’t keep these babies as pets.” 

“As of six o’clock this evening all of our cats were accounted for,” Hannibal said, looking over at Alana, who nodded in confirmation.  “What kind is it?” 

“It’s big and it’s black, and it looks mean as hell,” Crawford said. 

“A black leopard then,” Hannibal said thoughtfully.  “That’s very strange,” he said. 

“Strange perhaps, but that thing nearly tore off a woman’s foot, and I’m not about to go into that room, read it its rights, and snap the cuffs on it.” 

“No, I meant it’s strange because the New Orleans Zoo does not currently have a black leopard.  We are a pretty small operation compared to the Audubon.” 

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, you get that cat out of the Pleasure Dome and your zoo will be the proud recipient of one black leopard to call its very own.  I have a feeling nobody’s going to come forward and claim it.” 

“I will, of course, help out in any way I can,” Hannibal said, feeling excitement coursing through him.  “Is this massage parlor located on Bourbon Street?” 

“Where else?” 

“This is my assistant, Alana Bloom.  If you will please give her the address, we can be there in twenty minutes.” 

“I’ve got a car right outside.  I can run you down.” 

“I’ll need my truck,” Hannibal said, already ticking off things in his head.  “And I have to pick up some equipment and another man.  “It shouldn’t take me long.” 

The sergeant shrugged his massive shoulders.  “All right, that cat isn’t going anywhere, and I can guarantee you nobody is going in after it before you get there.” 

He wrote down the address of the Pleasure Dome on the back of one of his cards, handed it to Alana, and walked back out to the waiting car. 

Fifteen minutes later Alana sat in the cab of Hannibal’s truck parked outside of a peeling stucco apartment building.  Hannibal came out of the building, walked to the back of the truck, and rechecked the assortment of animal-handling equipment they had picked up at the zoo.  He rattled the door on the sturdy steel cage they had brought along, then walked to the front and got in behind the wheel.  His eyes shone with excitement. 

“Is Franklyn coming?” Alana asked. 

“Yes, he’ll be along momentarily.” 

“I wish we didn’t have to take him.  I don’t think he’s really comfortable working with animals.” 

“Franklyn is still learning,” Hannibal said, “and we might need a third person to help with handling the leopard.  I’d rather have one too many than one too few.” 

“I suppose so,” Alana said, but she didn’t sound happy. 

The apartment door opened and Franklyn Froideveaux came running out, tucking his shirt into the waistband of his pants.  He was a slightly portly beta with brown curly hair and a short beard. 

He pulled open the truck door and climbed in on the other side of Alana.  “This is a heck of a time to go out chasing some stray cat.  I don’t suppose there’s going to be overtime.” 

“I will turn in the request personally,” Hannibal said.  “Just don’t start spending it yet.  You know how they are about the budget.” 

“Don’t I!  Those freaking animals eat better than I do.” 

Alana rolled her eyes while Hannibal put the truck into gear and headed for the French Quarter. 

A fair-sized crowd had gathered in the block of Bourdon Street where the Pleasure Dome was.  Two police cars and a city emergency truck sat out in front with their lights blinking.  The building had been taped off and half a dozen uniformed policemen were busy keeping the curious behind the tape.  Up the street the musicians in the New Original Dixie Bar honked on. 

As Hannibal cruised up the block, one of the policemen came over and put a hand up to stop him.  Stepping around to his open window and putting a hand on the sill the officer said, “This street is blocked off.  You’ll have to go around.” 

“I am Dr. Lecter from the New Orleans Zoo.  Sergeant Crawford asked for my assistance.” 

“Oh, right.”  The policeman removed his hand.  “You can park over there.  Sergeant Crawford is waiting for you upstairs.” 

Hannibal parked the truck and crossed the sidewalk to the entrance, Alana and Franklyn following closely behind.  They climbed the stairs, now bright with police floodlights, to the lobby of the massage parlor.  Brian Zeller was sitting in a chair, perspiring heavily, while he answered questions asked by a very intimidating Sergeant Crawford.  The sergeant saw Hannibal and beckoned him over. 

“Any new developments?” Hannibal asked. 

Crawford shook his head.  “No change.  The cat’s still locked in the room, and the innkeeper here is having a little trouble trying to remember the events of the evening.” 

Brian said, “I’m telling you everything I know.  It beats the hell outta me how that animal got in here.” 

“You’re sure he didn’t come up the stairs and slip past you?” said one of the policemen. 

“Are you freakin’ kidding?  I may not have the eyes of an eagle, but there is no way, _no way_ I am not going to see a fucking black panther stroll up my stairs, go past my counter, and slip into one of my rooms.” 

“Black leopard,” Hannibal said. 

Brian looked at him for the first time.  “What?” 

“Black panther is the melanistic color variant of any big cat species.  Black leopard is the correct term.  And they are exceedingly rare.  This is quite a find.” 

“Leopard, panther—what the fuck difference does it make?  I know it ain’t no chipmunk.  Who are you?” 

“Dr. Hannibal Lecter, curator of the New Orleans Zoo.  Is there a back door to this place?” 

“Yeah, but it’s always double-locked.  It was locked all night.  I checked.” 

“Fire escape?” 

“There ain’t any.” Brian glanced nervously at Sergeant Crawford.  “I know I was supposed to put one in, but I was going to apply to the Safety Commission for an extension.” 

“I don’t care about that,” Crawford said dismissively. 

“Any way we could have a look at the cat?” Hannibal asked.   

As though in response to his words, a rumbling growl sounded down the hall from behind the door to room 12. 

“Jesus!” Franklyn said nervously.  “I don’t like the sound of that.” 

“Do you think _I_ do?” Brian complained. 

Brian led the party down the hall and into a narrow unnumbered room next to room 12.  Along both side walls were rows of fisheye peepholes, separated by shallow plywood partitions to give a semblance of privacy. 

“What’s this, the voyeur room?” Alana asked. 

“It takes all kinds, lady.  Some people get their rocks off watching somebody else doing it.  I make no judgments.” 

Hannibal, Franklyn, Alana and Sergeant Crawford each put an eye to one of the peepholes on the wall adjacent to room 12.  There was a trail of blood leading from the overturned bed to the door.  No animal was in sight. 

“Where is it?” Franklyn asked nervously. 

“Must be behind the bed,” Sergeant Crawford said. 

“Is it possible it got out the window?” Hannibal asked. 

“No way.  The windows all got bars on the outside.  King Kong himself couldn’t get through those bars.  Keeps johns from trying to sneak out without paying.” 

“What’s outside the window?”  

“Back alley.” 

Suddenly a large, glossy black head rose from behind the overturned bed, and the leopard seemed to be looking right at them.  He sprang over the bed and charged the wall where the viewers were concealed, slamming into the wall and slashing at it with his claws as though he knew he was being watched from the other side.  All four of the people at the viewers jumped back from the wall, startled. 

“Holy shit!” Franklyn said, holding a hand to his heart.  “Freakin’ thing nearly gave me a heart attack. 

 _We should be so lucky_ , Alana thought.  “He’s enormous!” she said. 

Brian Zeller stood back with his arms folded and looked smug.  “What’d I tell you?” 

Hannibal and Sergeant Crawford returned to the viewers. 

“It must weigh at least a hundred and fifty pounds,” Crawford said. 

“Closer to one eighty,” Hannibal said, studying the cat.  “A healthy young male in his prime.  Beautiful,” he said admiringly. 

“If you can call a nightmare beautiful,” Brian remarked.  “So hows about you get him the hell out of my place?” he said. 

Hannibal turned to Alana and Franklyn.  “I’ll need some equipment from the truck.” 

“How about the Winchester twelve-gauge shotgun?” Franklyn suggested. 

“I want to capture this cat, Franklyn,” Hannibal said with forced patience, “not blow him to pieces.  Bring up the tranquilizer rifle.” 

“What kind of a load?” Alana asked. 

“We’ll go with the ketamine straight.  Two thousand milligrams.  That ought to knock him down fairly quickly so we can get him into the squeeze cage.” 

Alana and Franklyn hurried out of the room.  Their footsteps could be heard clumping down the stairs to the street.  Sergeant Crawford took another look through the viewer and turned to Hannibal. 

“Where do you plan to shoot him from?” 

“I don’t want any holes chopped in my walls,” Brian said quickly. 

Crawford gave him a look, and he fell silent. 

“No, these walls are thin and if we put a hole in it the leopard may take advantage and try to claw his way through.  I think the window is our best bet,” Hannibal said.  “Have you got a ladder available?” 

“They’ll have one on the disaster wagon outside,” Crawford said.  “You going to want some kind of backup?” 

“There isn’t much you can do, but thank you.” 

Hannibal took a final look through the viewer to judge the angle his shot would have to take from the window.  The leopard stared right back at him. 

“I have the strangest feeling he knows what I’m planning to do,” Hannibal said, stepping away from the wall. 

“Tell you the truth, I’d rather face an armed bank robber,” Crawford said. 

They went downstairs and walked around to the narrow alley that ran behind the building.  Crawford dispatched men to seal it off at both ends. 

The driver of the emergency truck came back with two men carrying an old wooden extension ladder. 

“Sorry we haven’t got an aluminum model,” he said, “but the city cut our budget again.” 

“I’m well familiar with that myself,” Hannibal said. 

The ladder was leaned up against the brick wall below the barred window.  The two city employees held it steady at the base. 

Hannibal took the heavy tranquilizer rifle from Alana. 

“Loaded?” 

“Two darts,” she said.  “Two thousand mgs of ketamine in each one.  From the looks of that animal, you’d better put the first dart in a good spot.” 

“I intend to,” Hannibal said.  He climbed the ladder until he came even with the bottom of the grillwork and eased his head up over the sill.  The accumulated grim on the glass was so thick he couldn’t see into the room.  Tsking in disgust, he propped the hand holding the rifle against the brick wall for balance and dug into his pocket for a handkerchief.  He reached in carefully through the bars and used the handkerchief to rub at the glass. 

Gradually he wiped away enough of the dirt to give him a cloudy view of the interior of the room.  He leaned closer to the glass to peer through. 

Directly across the room from him the leopard rested on its haunches, watching him. 

“You are a clever one,” Hannibal said.  “You were waiting for me, weren’t you?  You just sit right where you are, and this will all be over before you know it and we can get you out of this unfortunate place and somewhere safe.” 

Moving slowly and awkwardly, careful to maintain his balance, Hannibal brought the rifle around in front of him.  Gripping it with both hands, he pulled it back so the muzzle was about a foot from the glass, then he thrust it forward between the bars of the grate.  The gun barrel made a solid clunk against the pane, but the window did not break. 

Inside the room the leopard crouched, tensing his muscles, his tail flicking back and forth like a pendulum.  Through the patch of glass he had cleared, Hannibal could see the clear green eyes watching him intently, ears flattened against his head. 

“Just take it easy,” he said.  “No reason to get upset.  Everything will be fine in just a moment.” 

He shoved the muzzle of the rifle against the pane of glass again, harder this time.  Again it bounced off with no effect.  Hannibal teetered for a moment, pushed off balance by the rebound, and the ladder came away from the building a few inches before dropping back against the building.  Someone was shouting down below in the alley, but Hannibal ignored it.  Clutching the rifle with one hand, he hugged the top of the ladder with the other. 

His hair had fallen in front of his eyes and he finger-combed it off his face with annoyance.  He was just steeling himself to have another go at the window when the leopard sprang.  Its two huge forepaws hit the window, and the glass exploded outward as though a bomb had gone off inside. 

Quick reflexes had Hannibal ducking his face to avoid the glass, but his feet slipped off the rungs and he clung desperately to the quaking ladder, trying to regain his footing as the leopard slashed at him through the bars.  The beast’s claws, like deadly curved daggers, gouged strips of wood effortlessly from the ladder.  Hannibal heard the fabric of his pant leg rip away as a claw caught it at the knee.  A quick glance down told him that the flesh was surprisingly unbroken. 

Again and again the leopard slammed into the bars while Hannibal struggled to stay out of the way of the slashing claws while still holding onto the ladder and the rifle.  Unbelievably, the wrought-iron grillwork over the window began to bend under the assault.  The masonry bolts holding the bars to the wall of the building began to work loose.  Brick and mortar dust sifted down into the night. 

 _My god, he’s coming through,_ Hannibal thought. 

“Come down!” Sergeant Crawford shouted from below him in the alley. 

Hannibal looked back over his shoulder and saw that one of the cops was holding a deer rifle, and it was pointed his way. 

“Get out of the way and we’ll shoot him when he shows at the window,” Crawford shouted. 

“Like hell you will,” Hannibal muttered. 

He pulled himself back, directly in front of the window.  Most of the glass was gone now, so he could see clearly into the room.  Against the opposite wall the big cat tensed for another attack. 

“It’s now or never, my friend,” Hannibal said.  He brought the tranquilizer gun into position, took hasty aim, and fired. 

The recoil knocked him back on the ladder for a moment, but he quickly regained his handhold and leaned forward to look into the room.  The cat was going berserk, spring-boarding off the walls and furniture, and spinning in circles as it tried to bite at the dart.  Hannibal was relieved to see that the dart was embedded in the leopard’s flank, which was a good placement.   

The big cat stopped suddenly and glared at Hannibal accusingly.  It roared in rage and then launched itself at the window again, but this time the impact lacked force. The animal’s strength was ebbing fast as the powerful tranquilizer spread through its body. 

“Easy, boy, easy.  Don’t hurt yourself.” 

As though it understood that further efforts to escape were useless, it took out its fury on the room, ripping the bed to ribbons, splintering the chair and bureau, gouging ragged furrows in the plaster walls.  Gradually the cat’s rage subsided.  It sank down onto its belly, panting.  The green eyes clouded as the beast looked up at Hannibal through the shattered window.  It bared its fangs in one last show of defiance, then toppled over and lay on its side.  Hannibal watched for a moment longer, then clambered down the ladder to where a small crowd waited for him in the alley. 

“Did you get him?” Crawford asked.  “Jesus, it sounded like he was going crazy in there.” 

“I got him,” Hannibal said, shaking glass slivers off his clothes, “but I’m not sure how long that dose is going to keep this one down.”  He signaled to Alana and Franklyn.  “Let’s get him into the cage in a hurry.  I want to be sure he’s secure before he wakes up.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Will wakes up the next morning looking forward to spending the day with his brother, but Matt is nowhere to be found. Hmm, where could he be? ;)


	4. Chapter 4

Will sat up suddenly in bed, throat constricted, his heart beating wildly, fueled by the dream he had been having where he was being chased.  The chase had led to a dead end where he was boxed in, unable to escape, and when had awoken, the terror he felt was compounded by the fact that he didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten there.  It was several seconds before time and place came into synchronization in his mind, and he remembered that he was in their old family house in New Orleans, in the bedroom given to him by his brother, Matt.  He breathed deeply as the terror slowly drained away and the dream faded.  He was safe here. 

A soft breeze stirred the curtains next to the balcony doors.  Outside, over the iron balcony railing, a heavy tree branch bobbed gently up and down.  The open balcony doors reminded Will of his feeling that something was out there watching him last night. 

He got out of bed, pulled on a robe, and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor to the balcony doors and looked out.  There was nothing out there but the empty balcony. 

Will turned back to his room with an exasperated sigh.  What had he expected to find, anyway?  A bloody footprint or something? 

He dismissed the notion and got his toiletries and an outfit he picked out for today and stepped out into the hall.  The big house was silent.  Will glanced up and down the hall, saw that all the other doors were closed.  As he walked to the bathroom, he paused at Matt’s door to listen for any sound that his brother might be awake.  Hearing none, he went on to the bathroom. 

There were modern fixtures that had obviously been added after the house was built.  The smaller bathroom downstairs must have been the original one. 

He took a long, luxurious shower and dried himself with one of the fluffy towels hanging on a rod.  He didn’t worry about his hair as it would dry quickly by itself and fall naturally into place. 

After getting dressed and wiping down the tub, he went back to his room.  There was still no one else stirring in the house.  What time, he wondered, did people get up here?  He took his wrist watch from the bedside table, wound it, and saw that it was eight o’clock.  Deciding to go ahead and unpack, he took out his clothes, a piece at a time, and shook out the travel wrinkles.  He refolded his t-shirts, socks and underwear and placed them neatly in the bureau drawers and hung his shirts and slacks in the wardrobe chest.  When everything was put away to his satisfaction he went back into the hall.  Still hearing no sound from any other part of the house, he walked to his brother’s room and rapped lightly on the door. 

“Matt?” 

He rapped again, more loudly.  “Mattie?”  Still there was no response from inside. 

He tried the knob, feeling like a sneak thief.  But that was silly, he told himself.  Matt was his brother.  The knob turned easily in his hand, and the door swung inward. 

The big bed, its tall headboard flush against the wall, dominated the room.  The bedspread was stretched smoothly across it.  The pillows rolled and tucked under.  If Matt had slept in the bed last night, he had done a careful job of making it this morning. 

Will stepped tentatively into the bedroom.  It was almost bare of furnishings.  The only picture on the wall was one of their parents in costume.  Each of them was smiling, with an arm extended, palm up, the traditional circus salute to the crowd. 

The few personal items in the room—hairbrush, manicure kit, deodorant, talc—were set out on the bureau with geometrical precision.  There was a tang of men’s cologne in the air.  He walked to the open balcony doors and looked out.  This room shared the same long balcony that ran outside his room.  The trees sighed and whispered in the wind. 

Feeling more than ever like an intruder, Will backed out of his brother’s room and closed the door.  He caught the welcome aroma of coffee brewing downstairs.  Maybe Matt was downstairs having breakfast already, waiting for him.  He went downstairs eagerly. 

The kitchen was the warmest, brightest room in the Brown house.  The sun spilled in through a wide window over the sink.  Merry pink and red geraniums grew just outside in a window box.  One entire wall was hung with well-used pots and pans and cutting implements.  Jars, bottles, and cannisters holding mysterious condiments lined up along the counter.  The smell of coffee and bacon frying was heavenly. 

Femolly stood before a big gas range, tending to a black cast iron frying pan.  An old-fashioned percolator bubbled gently on a side burner. 

“Good morning,” Will said. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” the woman asked.  “Eggs or pancakes?” 

“Eggs will be fine.” 

“Good, because I ain’t got no pancakes.”  Femolly turned from the stove with a smile, to show that this was a favorite joke.  “All the same, I like to give people a choice.” 

Will smiled back at her.  He liked this woman, and he liked this room.  At the far end of the kitchen was a sturdy round table covered with a red-and-white checkered cloth.  On it were a sugar bowl, cream pitcher, and a heavy pair of salt and pepper shakers.  Will started toward it. 

“May I set the table?” he asked. 

“’Course not.  You don’t eat in here, child.”  Femolly jerked a thumb toward the door leading to the dining room.  “You eat out there.” 

“But this is much more cheerful.” 

“You eat out there,” Femolly said with finality.  “You’re not help, you’re family.  Go ‘long now, and I’ll bring your breakfast out when it’s ready.” 

Will sighed and walked out to the dining room.  He flipped up the wall switch, but even the lights from the ornate chandelier over the table could not brighten the room’s dark woodwork and somber wallpaper.  It had been gloomy enough the night before, but today it was even more depressing in comparison with the cheery kitchen. 

Will sat down at the place that had been set for him with Wedgewood china and old polished silver.  A crisp linen napkin was folded neatly beside the plate.  His was the only place set at the table. 

Femolly came out of the kitchen carrying the percolator.  She poured fragrant chicory coffee into Will’s cup. 

“Eggs be ready in a minute.” 

“Isn’t Matt here?” Will asked. 

“Nope.” 

“I looked in his room.  His bed looked as though it hadn’t been slept in.” 

“That so?” 

Femolly retreated through the swinging doors to the kitchen without further comment while Will sat there feeling frustrated.  

The tall woman came back in with a platter of fluffy scrambled eggs and strips of lean bacon.  She served a generous portion onto Will’s plate. 

“Matt was supposed to show me around the city today.” 

“Shoot, child, you want to see New Orleans you don’t need your brother to drag you around.  Every corner got somebody selling guidebooks to the tourists.  Down in the Quarter you can’t step off the curb without a sightseeing bus running over you. 

“I thought Matt might be able to show me some out-of-the-way places.” 

“Maybe, but if you’re willing to spend a few dollars, any taxi driver will take you places even the mayor don’t know about.  There’s hot toast coming.” 

Femolly barged out through the swinging door again and returned a moment later with a covered plate of toasted sourdough bread and a dish of creamy butter. 

“I guess that’s what I’ll do, then,” Will said, feeling a little hurt.  Matt had seemed so happy to see him the day before and he had thought Matt was looking forward to spending the day together as much as he was. 

Femolly’s tone softened.  “You’ll have a good time.  People in New Orleans are friendly and always ready to help you out if you got a question.” 

“Yes, I’m sure I can find my way around,” Will said sighing.  “I’m just a little disappointed, that’s all.  I was really looking forward to spending the day with Matt.” 

“Don’t let your brother’s comin’s and goin’s bother you, child.  His preacher work is a lot like doctorin’.  Sometimes he gets a call in the middle of the night and he’s got to go rushin’ off someplace or other.  People call up a doctor to heal the body, and somebody like your brother to heal the soul.” 

Femolly relaxed into a smile.  “Only thing is, you have to look a long time today before you find a doctor who come out in the middle of the night to see you.” 

“I hope he doesn’t have to stay away too long,” Will said.  “We haven’t really had a chance to talk yet, and there’s so much to catch up on.” 

“You never can tell how long he’s gonna be gone,” Femolly said.  “Sometimes it’s two, three days.  Other times he’s back in a couple hours.” 

“Oh,” Will said dejectedly.  “Then I suppose I’ll just have to make the best of it.” 

“That’s the smartest thing to do.  You want some more coffee?” 

“Not yet, thanks.” 

“You just holler when you do.  I always keep it hot on the stove.” 

Femolly walked back through the door to the kitchen.  Will admired the woman’s regal bearing, her shoulders squared, legs straight and strong under the long skirt.  _I would like to sketch her,_ Will thought. 

The idea of doing some sketching cheered him up.  After all, he would have plenty of time to spend with Matt.  Feeling better, he ate the bacon and eggs with gusto and drank two more cups of Femolly’s coffee. 

When he finished breakfast Will went upstairs and took his sketchbook from the drawer where he had put it.  He sharpened half a dozen soft-lead pencils and put them in his tote bag.  The sun outside was bright and inviting, the breeze felt fresh through his window. 

He popped his head into the kitchen to say goodbye to Femolly, then set off to see New Orleans. 

Will’s first stop was at the Visitor Information Center on Royal Street where a very helpful omega loaded him down with maps, guidebooks, pamphlets, and directories. 

He sat down on a bench to look over the many sightseeing plans available.  Finally he chose a fifty-mile bus tour of the entire city, which seemed very reasonable at twelve dollars. 

The bus left from the corner of Royal and St. Ann streets.  Will settled into his seat on top of the bus out in the open air and was suddenly aware that of all the passengers on the bus, he was the only one riding alone.  There were families, with all their noisy interplay.  There were young couples more interested in themselves than the sights of the city.  There were middle-aged couples happy to be spending time together without the kids, and older couples who could communicate totally with each other by a touch or a look.  Only Will had no one.  If Matt had been with him it would have been different, but he was overcome with a growing sense of loneliness and depression. 

As he sat there, he again wondered if he would ever find that special person he would connect with, the one who was right for him.  He had dated a lot of alphas and betas over the last couple of years, but something had always seemed missing from the relationship.  It had never felt right. 

The bus started up, and Will put the lonely thoughts out of his mind to concentrate on the sights of New Orleans. 

 

When Will alighted from the bus back on Royal Street two hours later, his butt was numb from sitting too long on a hard seat, his nose was sunburned, and he felt unsatisfied.  Everything had gone by too fast.  He decided the only way to truly absorb the feeling of the city would be to walk along the narrow old streets and take the time to really look at things.  Listen to the special music of New Orleans, inhale the smells, feel its textures.  He set out on his own, studying the people and trying to pick up the rhythm of the city. 

When he came to the St. Louis Cathedral, he took out his book, found a spot on a stone bench, and began to sketch. 

Twenty minutes later Will snapped the lead of his third pencil in frustration.  He simply could not get the cathedral down the way he wanted it.  The light was wrong, or he had chosen a poor angle to work from, or he plain wasn’t in the mood. 

He closed the sketchbook with a snap.  He just felt off-kilter today.  He wasn’t used to the heat and the crowds and the noise.  He suddenly found himself homesick, wishing he was back in Wolf Trap wandering through the cool, quiet woods with only birdsong as background noise. 

He walked on up St. Ann Street, but the buildings seemed to be closing in on him.  The crowds were getting heavier and people kept bumping into him.  He was starting to feel panicked, which was starting to draw attention.  He stopped suddenly, confused as to where he was. 

He looked around for someplace to sit and where he could check his map and get his bearings, and saw he was standing in front of a narrow bar called La Whiskey.  As far as he could tell, it was cool and reasonably empty inside, so he walked in, sighing with relief as he left most of the heat and the noise behind.  

The only other customers were a man and a woman in their forties, enthusiastically groping each other in a back booth.  Will found a barstool, and the gray-haired bartender hurried over with a welcoming smile. 

“Afternoon.  What can I get you?” 

“I’ll have a Coke, please.” 

“Rum and Coke?” 

“No, just a Coke.” 

“Whatever you say.”  The bartender scooped crushed ice into a glass and filled it with cola from a hose that came up behind the bar. 

“Like a twist of lemon in that?” 

“No, thank you. 

The bartender sighed.  He tossed a coaster on the bar and placed the glass on it.  “I don’t feel like I’m doing my job just pumping Coke into a glass.” 

Will smiled and took a sip of the cool drink to show that his efforts were appreciated. 

“Quiet today,” the bartender said, encouraged by Will’s smile. 

“Is it?” Will said, not really interested in the state of his business, but enjoying the cool, quiet of the bar.  

“Yeah, real quiet.  It’ll pick up about dinnertime, though, then we’ll go all night long.” 

“Sounds exciting.”

“Gets to be routine when you’ve been in business as many years as I have.  Once in a while, though, something really weird happens.  Take last night, for instance.  We had a big ruckus right up the next block.” 

“Really?” Will took a long swallow of the Coke.  He was only half-listening to what the man was saying, but the sound of his voice soothed him. 

“Oh, yeah, it was something.  Had the police, ambulance, fire department.  A regular circus.” 

The man was so plainly eager to talk about it that Will could not refrain from asking, “So what happened?” 

“I never did get the whole story, but it seems an escaped lion or something got into a building up the street and got hold of some woman.  Chewed her leg clean off, is what I heard.” 

“A lion?” Will said, looking at the man, his interest peaked now.  The fine hairs quivered at the base of his neck. 

“It was some kind of big cat.  Tiger maybe, I don’t know.  Whatever it was really kicked up a fuss.  Had a big crowd in here after it was over, but no two people seemed to have the same story about what happened.” 

“So what happened?” Will asked.  “They didn’t kill it, did they?” he asked, feeling suddenly anxious. 

“No.  I guess they got some folks from the local zoo out there and they managed to tranq the thing and haul it off to the zoo.” 

“Well that’s good,” Will said, feeling himself relax.  He finished his Coke and set the glass down on the bar with a thump. 

“Another one?” 

“No, I have to go.  But thank you,” he said, paying for the drink and picking up his bag and heading out the door. 

“Have a nice day,” the bartender said, but Will was already gone. 

He   walked down Bourbon Street aimlessly for a block.  The talk with the barkeep had dredged up troubled fragments of memory and unformed thoughts that he was afraid to examine too closely.  He’d also been having some strange dreams over the last couple of years, and he wondered if they were partial memories.  Once again he wished his brother was here so he could talk with him.  On an impulse, he stopped at a pay telephone and looked up the address of the Tabernacle Mission in the book.  Maybe Mattie would have time to have lunch with him. 

The mission turned out to be a simple wooden frame building on North Rampart Street.  It was badly in need of painting.  Will climbed the worn wooden steps and pushed open the door.  About a dozen men and two or three women were scattered throughout the rows of benches.  The odor of their unwashed bodies mingled with the smell of varnish.  They were shabby and defeated-looking.  Up in front, standing behind a peeling altar, an earnest man with plump cheeks and a rosy complexion was telling the people how to find riches within themselves by declaring for Jesus.  The listeners seemed unconvinced. 

A young woman with a clean-scrubbed face came up beside Will. 

“Hello, I’m Georgia.  Is there something I can help you with?” 

“I wonder if Matthew Brown is here.  I’m his brother, Will.” 

“No, Matthew hasn’t been in today.  We don’t usually see him more than twice a week.”  Hastily she added, “Not that we aren’t grateful for the time he does give us.” 

“I see.”  Will cleared his throat.  “Might someone have called him down here last night?” 

“Called him down?” 

“I mean, might there have been an emergency or something?” 

The young woman smiled.  “We really don’t have that kind of emergency here.”  She glanced around at the people slouching on the varnished benches.  “Mostly all we get is people who are spiritually tired.  They’re willing to listen to the Word in exchange for a bit of food afterward.  As you can see, we don’t get much of a crowd.  They could do much better by applying for welfare or food stamps, but our people are the kind who don’t like the government getting involved in their lives.” 

“Then you haven’t seen my brother, today or last night?” Will said. 

“No, sorry.” 

Will thanked the girl and left the mission, slipping a bill into the offering box on his way out.  Suddenly he felt very tired.  Rather than walk all the way to Carondelet Street to catch the St. Charles trolley home, he hailed a taxi out in front of the mission. 

When he got back to the Brown house, Matt had still not returned, and Will grew more depressed.  Femolly had prepared a dinner of baked chicken with a flaky crust flavored with herbs.  Will ate without enthusiasm.” 

“Did my brother call or anything?” he asked. 

“Nope,” Femolly said.  “Like I told you, sometimes he’s gone two, three days.  You mustn’t worry, he’ll come back when he can.” 

She disappeared into the kitchen then, and did not return until Will had finished eating.  She started to clear away the dishes, but Will stopped her with a hand on her arm. 

“Femolly, did you know my mother and father?” 

“I knew them, child.  Worked for them right here in this house, same as I do for your brother and you.  Traveling with the circus they weren’t here a whole lot, but I always kept the place ready for when they came.” 

“What kind of people were they?” Will asked.  “I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t really remember anything about them.” 

Femolly’s eyes looked into the distance.  “They were fine people.  Special people.  Your father was the handsomest man you’d ever see.  He did his best to live the right kind of life.  And your mother, your beautiful mother, she looked a lot like you.  Oh, they were a fine couple to look at.  Truly a handsome couple.” 

“Did they … do you think they loved each other?” 

“Oh my, yes.  Those were two people as much in love as I ever saw.” 

“Then why did he … I mean, how could he … do what he did?” 

Femolly looked at him accusingly.  “I thought you didn’t remember any of that stuff.” 

“I don’t, really, but people have told me about how they died.  I went to a library and read the stories that were in the newspaper about it at the time.” 

“Best you just forget all about it,” Femolly said.  “Stuff like that is best left buried.” 

Will wanted to ask more questions, but Femolly said, “Why don’t you go on in the den and watch a little television?” making it clear the discussion was over. 

“All right,” he said without enthusiasm. 

He found the cozy room—all leather and books, with a massive old desk—just off the entrance hall.  The air held a faint scent of pipe tobacco.  Will wondered if his father had relaxed in this room.  It didn’t seem the type of room that would suit Matt. 

He snapped on the small television set and waited for it to warm up.  It did not much matter to him what was on, just so it would occupy a part of his mind.  When the picture came into focus he settled into a deep, comfortable chair.  The movie on the screen had something to do with policemen in San Francisco.  He didn’t even try to figure out what was going on, it was just background noise that helped relax him. 

The movie ended and the late news came on.  Will dozed comfortably through the current international crises and the sports report, then snapped suddenly alert as the anchorman switched to local news. 

An angry black face filled the screen.  Then the camera pulled back to show the leopard sitting against the rear wall of a large cage, glaring out at the camera.  The voice of a woman reporter was saying, “…black leopard is being kept in quarantine here at the New Orleans Zoo while tests are run to determine if it’s healthy.  The black leopard is a rare species on the endangered species list, and it’s a mystery where the cat came from, or how it managed to enter a building and get inside a room in a massage parlor undetected.”   

The camera pulled back still farther to include in the picture a slim, windblown young woman standing next to the cage and talking into a ball-on-a-stick microphone. 

“If no one turns up to claim the cat,” the reporter said, “the zoo will have to decide what to do with its new kitty cat.  This is Christine Goode at the New Orleans Zoo.” 

Will sat in the chair staring at the screen during the remainder of the news and whatever talk show followed it without seeing any of it.  Sometime after midnight he went to bed and slept fitfully, his dreams filled with cats. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Will feels strangely compelled to visit the zoo and see the captured leopard.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I read this story one chapter after another, it didn't seem like it took long for our boys to meet. But I've come to realize posting chapters spread out like this is making the eventual meet-up seem like it's taking forever! So to rectify that situation, I'm posting an extra bonus chapter tonight so that when you're finished reading these two chapters, our boys will have met, and then we can get on with the rest of the story. I hope you enjoy. -EA

In the morning Will awoke with a light sheen of perspiration covering his body.  The bedroom curtains hung limp before the open balcony.  Outside the sky was low and gray over the city, holding the heat and moisture in like a lid on a pot. 

He got out of bed and walked down the hall to Matt’s room.  Again there was no answer to his knock.  Inside everything was exactly as it had been the day before.  The bed was neatly made, everything precisely in its place. 

He showered, dressed and went down to breakfast, but asked no questions this morning about his brother’s whereabouts.  Nor did Femolly offer any information.  The breakfast of buttermilk pancakes was served and eaten in silence. 

“Is there a newspaper?” Will asked as Femolly cleared away the dishes. 

“Your brother don’t hold with newspapers, says there’s nothing but killings and wars and other bad stuff in ‘em, but I get one for myself for the supermarket coupons and such,” she said, going back in the kitchen and bringing a paper and setting it next to him.   

Will unfolded the paper and the cat story was on the front page down at the bottom.  The headline read, _Leopard gets a little action at the Pleasure Dome._ “Tasteless,” Will said frowning and shaking his head.  He quickly read through the article, but it didn’t give any further information than the news report did the night before.   

Frustrated, he folded the paper back up and went upstairs to his room. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to stand just sitting around the house in the hope that his brother would show up, so he gathered up his sketchbook and tote bag and went downstairs.  He found Femolly in the kitchen, sitting at the red-checkered table, doing a crossword puzzle. 

“I’m going out for a while,” he said. 

Femolly’s answer was a noncommittal grunt, but her eyes followed him as he left the house. 

 

The St. Charles streetcar took him downtown, where he found a taxi and told the driver where he wanted to go. 

After a few minutes the taxi rolled to a stop before a tall gate in a red brick wall.  A dilapidated ticket booth stood outside the gate.  Beyond the bars a few gloomy buildings of Southern Gothic architecture were visible.  People strolled the grounds unhurriedly. 

“Is this it?” Will asked the driver. 

“This is what you asked for, the old New Orleans Zoo.” 

Will fished out his wallet to pay the fare. 

“If it’s a zoo you want, why not let me take you to the Audubon?  It’s bigger, newer, and there’s a lot more to do there.” 

“No, this is the one I want.” 

“Suit yourself,” the driver said, taking his money and driving off. 

Will paid a dollar at the ticket booth and walked through an ornate gate into the old zoo.  It did not have the open, antiseptic look of more modern establishments, but there was a certain charm to the place. 

The air was cooler in the zoo than out in the city, thanks to the profusion of trees and shrubbery, and Will inhaled deeply, enjoying the raw, wild scent of the animals.  The tourists who wandered about the old zoo were a different breed than the hurrying, anxious crowds that milled up and down Bourbon Street, and Will felt himself relax, feeling at peace here.

As he strolled past a gift shop near the entrance, an elderly man and woman came out wearing new sun-visors that had nicknames stitched on the band, _Deedee_ and _Big Sam_.  They smiled warmly at him and he smiled back, then continued down the path following a sign that read:  _Primates_. 

He passed a large cage where twenty or so South American monkeys clambered about the concrete ledges and swung through the branches of a dead tree.  Their bright little eyes watched the people walking by.  Will did not linger.  He had never liked monkeys.  Their behavior was too much like that of humans.  It embarrassed him.  If you stood long enough before a cage full of monkeys you would recognize most of the human foibles.  There were the bullies and the cowards, the sneaks and the show-offs.  And always there was a forlorn loner smaller than the rest that the others picked on.  Too much like humans. 

Will walked on until the sound of a voice brought him to a stop in front of a cage containing two orangutans.  The voice was coming from a small speaker box in front of the cage, into which a family of tourists had inserted a dime.  Will edged closer to listen. 

_“… Fewer than three thousand of these playful, intelligent creatures are left in the world today, thanks to the depredation of Man, who continues to destroy their natural habitat.”_

The voice was that of a man with a European accent.  The tone had a warmth and sincerity to it that appealed to Will.  He could believe that the speaker truly cared about the animals. 

_“… The pair you are looking at now, Dante and Josie, were born in captivity.  They are products of artificial insemination.  This is usually the case today, as civilization does not seem to stir up romantic feelings in the orangutan.”_

The two adults in the tourist family tittered at this.  Will smiled. 

_“… The zoo today is like a modern ark.  We are fighting to guarantee the survival of the earth’s endangered species, and serving when we can as a breeding ground to ensure that our animals will not vanish.”_

The speaker clicked off and the two orangutans applauded, bringing a laugh from the tourists.  Will continued along the path. 

He reached a point where the path branched off in two directions.  Off to his left he could see the bear cages.  The heavy animals stood on their hind feet and clowned and waved at the people, begging for peanuts.  Bears were the big crowd-pleasers of any zoo. 

Will looked down the path that went to the right.  A few yards along, a sign in the shape of an arrow read:  Big Cats.  And he knew this was why he had come.  Ever since he had seen the black cat on the television news last night, Will had been drawn here.  He could not say exactly why he had to come, but he knew it would have been impossible to stay away. 

With no more hesitation, he walked down the path toward the cats.  The lions were the first he came to.  Great shaggy-maned beasts with wide-set amber eyes and placid expressions that revealed nothing of what they were thinking.  Will stopped in front of the cage to admire them.  One old male sat on a rock ledge, well above the others.  The patriarch.  On the floor of the cage a younger male prowled restlessly from one side of the cage to the other and back again.  In the jungle he would be nearing the time when he would challenge the older lion for leadership.  Four females dozed beside a shallow concrete pool.  Will smiled at a pair of cubs who batted energetically at each other under the watchful eye of their mother. 

He moved along to the cage to where the tigers were.  There were two of them, a male and a female.  They padded ceaselessly back and forth, back and forth, moving with a sensual grace.  They stopped their pacing when Will drew near, and turned to look at him. 

Will moved closer to the cage.  An excitement that was close to sexual welled up inside him.  The tigers were both beautiful and frightening, like gods in orange and black.  The muscles moved smoothly in their mighty shoulders and haunches. 

“Hello,” he said softly.  “My, you are beautiful.” 

The tigers stood motionless a few feet away looking expectant, watching, waiting. 

It seemed to Will that his senses were more keenly alert than at any time in his life.  A powerful feeling of belonging overcame him.  It was a feeling he had never known before. 

Finally with a whispered, “Good-bye, my friends,” he turned away from the tigers and continued along the path.  The tigers watched him go. 

He had not gone far when he spied a small gap in the brush along one side.  He investigated and found a narrow trail, faint and partially overgrown, that led away at a right angle from the main path.  A new scent reached his nostrils, and Will knew that this was the way he must go. 

A short way down the new trail his way was barred by a chain stretched between two metal posts.  A sign hanging from the chain read: 

 

_No Admittance – Authorized Personnel Only_

_Animals in Quarantine_

 

Without pausing, Will raised the chain and ducked under it.  He followed the narrow trail through a patch of trees.  Up ahead he could hear voices, one raised in anger.  Two people came into view.  A slightly portly man was cursing violently while a beautiful woman with long dark hair was trying to calm him down, even as she sounded exasperated.  The leopard was in a large outdoor cage set four feet above the ground on a concrete base, growing softly. 

Will pushed back a last clump of brush and saw that the large cage, located about thirty feet away, was attached to a building.  It was probably an animal hospital since the cat was in quarantine.  Beyond the building the path led into a small wooded area, then up a grassy slope on the far side to an old brick building sitting atop the hill.  As Will watched, the angry-looking man headed into the trees and headed up the path.  He walked with a stiff and unnatural gait.  The woman remained behind, shaking her head and hosing down the floor of the cage.  She was careful to direct the stream of water away from the animal inside. 

Finally the woman picked up something she had in a plastic bag and followed the direction the man had gone.  Will waited until he saw her climb the grassy bank and enter the building.  Then he left the concealment of the brush and approached the cage. 

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

Beyond the animal hospital building, atop a grassy bank, sat the aged administration building of the New Orleans Zoo.  Inside, in a ground floor laboratory, Hannibal Lecter was using surgical forceps to assist a poisonous snake in shedding its skin.  Hannibal plucked gently at the drying husk, taking care not to injure the shiny new skin beneath it. 

“Amazing process, isn’t it?” he said to the other man in the room.  “When they outgrow their old skin they just slough it off, and there’s a brand new one underneath.  It’s sort of like being reborn.  It’s too bad we humans can’t do something like that when our skins become old and worn.” 

Frederick Chilton perched on a stool and carefully kept his eyes averted from what Hannibal was doing with the snake.  Despite the heat, he wore a three-piece suit, with a necktie severely knotted at the collar of his white shirt.  To Chilton’s way of thinking, the title of Chief Administrator required him to maintain a certain formality. 

“Never mind the snake,” Chilton said.  “We’ve got to make a decision about what to do with the leopard.” 

“What’s to decide?” Hannibal said, without looking up from the shedding snake.  “Once he’s out of quarantine, providing nobody claims him, of course, we free up one of our other exhibits, give him some space to move around, and the zoo has a new attraction that didn’t cost us anything.” 

“Isn’t it possible that he’s dangerous?” 

Hannibal paused at that and turned to face the administrator.  “Dangerous?  Of course he’s dangerous.  They’re all dangerous.  This is a zoo where we house wild animals, not a pet shop housing puppies and kittens.”   

“I know, I know,” Chilton said, “but this one seems … different.  I had a look at him this morning, and I tell you that animal scared me, even with the steel bars between us.  He doesn’t act like the other cats.” 

“There is something about him,” Hannibal admitted.  “His behavior doesn’t fit normal behavior patterns.  That’s one reason I wired Dr. Sutcliffe in San Francisco to come down and have a look at him.” 

“San Francisco?” Chilton’s voice cracked. 

“That’s right.  Sutcliffe is the best big-cat man in the country.” 

“But San Francisco!  What’s that going to cost us?” 

“Who knows?” Hannibal shrugged.  “Money is your department.  I simply take care of the animals.” 

“Damn it, Hannibal, you know the trouble we’ve been having getting any funds out of the city.  They want to close this place down and give all the money to Audubon.  How am I supposed to justify the expense of bringing a cat doctor all the way here from California?” 

“Don’t tell them what it’s for.  Juggle the accounts around to absorb the expense somewhere else.” 

Chilton shook his head sadly.  “Hannibal, you just don’t understand the fiscal problems in running a zoo today.  Or the politics involved either, for that matter.” 

“I understand this much—flying Sutcliffe out here will cost us a whole lot less than buying our own leopard would.” 

“Who says we need a leopard?  We’ve got lions and tigers and we’ve done just fine without a black leopard, so why do we want one now?” 

“Because he’s here, Frederick,” Hannibal said patiently.  “Whether we want a black leopard or not, we’ve got one, and it is now our responsibility to take care of him.  Have you any other suggestions?” 

Chilton seemed to look at something off in a corner.  “We could euthanize it.” 

“You cannot be serious, Frederick,” Hannibal said incredulously.   

Chilton forced his gaze back up to meet Hannibal’s.  “It might be the best solution all around.” 

“Tell me how it’s best for the leopard.” 

The administrator pursed his lips.  “I think you’re getting a Dr. Doolittle complex.  Let me remind you that this is a zoo, not a shelter for homeless animals.  The city expects us to turn a profit here, however small, and your salary and mine depend on that.  The animals are, in a sense, our product.  They are not our family.” 

“I will not consider euthanasia of the leopard,” Hannibal said adamantly. 

“Can’t we at least discuss it?” 

“No, we cannot.  These animals are living, breathing creatures.  We brought them here and we have a responsibility to them.  It’s because of men that they aren’t living free in their natural surroundings.  Men destroy their environment, then bring them here and put them in cages for other men to look at.  It’s up to people like you and me to make their lives as comfortable as we possibly can.  If one of them doesn’t act just exactly the way we think it should, we don’t shoot him full of poison, we try to find out what’s bothering him and help him.” 

“Hannibal, I—“ Chilton began. 

Hannibal ignored him and plowed on.  “What do you think I do this for, Frederick?  The money?  I’ve had offers from four universities in this country and one in Europe.  Any one of them would start me out at twice what I’m making here.  I’ll tell you why I stay at this relic of a zoo; I stay because the animals here need somebody who cares about them.  _I_ care about them.  That’s _my_ job.” 

Frederick Chilton held up his hands in surrender.  “All right, Hannibal, enough.  You’ve made your point.  Go ahead and bring out this California doctor for your leopard.  I’ll see what I can do about squeezing a few more dollars out of the city fathers.  After all, that’s _my_ job. 

Hannibal’s posture relaxed slowly.  “Frederick, underneath that skinflint exterior, I believe you might have a heart after all.” 

“Don’t count on it,” Chilton said.  “I just know when I’ve been out-talked.” 

The door to the laboratory burst open, starling both men, and Franklyn stumbled in.  His face was a mask of disgust.  He held his hands awkwardly away from his body.  The zoo uniform of khaki shirt and pants he wore was covered with a thick fluid full of pulpy lumps.  A sickly, sour odor came into the lab with him.

“What happened to you?” Hannibal said. 

“That sonofabitch puked on me.” 

“Language, Franklyn.  You mean the leopard?” 

“Who else would I be talking about?” 

“What were you doing in the cage?” 

“He looked half asleep.  I was just trying to get a vitamin pill down his ungrateful throat and then he just puked all over me.” 

“I told you to let me handle the medication of that cat,” Hannibal said frowning. 

“Believe me, you can handle it from now on,” Franklyn said with feeling.  “I can’t believe he puked on me,” he whined, pulling his soiled shirt away from his body.  

“Chilton edged over next to an open window.  “Do you suppose he could go somewhere and change those clothes?” 

“Go on down to the locker room and shower,” Hannibal told the younger man.  “You’ll find a pair of coveralls down there you can put on.” 

Franklyn slouched out of the room. 

Hannibal turned to Frederick.  “I always said animals can act very human sometimes.” 

The door opened again and Alana Bloom came in.  She carried a sealed plastic bag. 

“Hi.”  Alana sniffed at the air.  “I see Franklyn has already been here.” 

“He just left.  Where were you when the cat puked on him?” 

“I was collecting a stool sample.  I don’t know what possessed that fool to play doctor.” 

“I don’t think he’ll do it again.” 

“Not likely.” 

Hannibal pointed to the plastic bag.  “What have you got there?” 

“Something rather interesting.”  She held the bag up so the light from the window revealed its contents.  “What would you say this looks like?” 

Hannibal and Frederick moved closer to examine the bag.  Hannibal looked at the administrator and raised his eyebrows in a question. 

Frederick said, “It looks like a half-eaten slice of pizza.” 

Alana smiled at him brightly.  “Right the first time, Dr. Chilton.” 

“This is probably a silly question,” Hannibal said, “but why are you carrying it around with you in a plastic bag?” 

“Because it came up out of the leopard.” 

Frederick Chilton backed away hastily. 

“Interesting,” Hannibal said, taking the bag from Alana and examining it.  “We have a black leopard who enjoys pizza.  A most unusual species.” 

“Could somebody have fed it to him this morning?” Frederick asked.

“No,” Hannibal said flatly.  “Nobody but Alana, Franklyn and I have been near the quarantine cage.” 

“Then where did he get it?” 

“Probably scavenged it out of a garbage can while he was prowling through the city on his way to the massage parlor.” 

“Have you figured out what he was doing there?” Alana asked.  “From the contents of his stomach, he sure wasn’t hungry.” 

“Maybe he was horny,” Frederick said, waggling his eyebrows at her. 

“Riiiight,” Alana said. 

“Are any of the test results in?” Hannibal asked.   

“So far they’re all negative.  No ascariasis, no distemper, no encephalitis.  Except for his erratic behavior and his odd eating habits, this seems to be one healthy cat.” 

“I’ve asked Dr. Sutcliffe to fly out from the Coast and take a look at him.” 

“Dr. Sutcliffe, really!  That’s wonderful!  I’ve always wanted to meet him! ” Alana said excitedly. 

“Oh yes, wonderful,” Frederick said, with a completely different emphasis. 

“The chief administrator is not sold on our new cat,” Hannibal explained to Alana.  “But I’ll bet you learn to love him, Frederick.  When the news is out that the leopard that was caught at the massage parlor is now on display at the New Orleans Zoo, think of the publicity and crowds of curiosity seekers he’ll draw.” 

“That’s true,” Frederick said, looking happier now.  “Well, I’d better go start practicing if I’m going to convince the city fathers that we need a specialist from California to come out and hold your new cat’s paw and find out what’s making him neurotic.” 

“You do that, Frederick,” Hannibal said as the administrator went out the door. 

When they were alone Alana came up to Hannibal and slipped her arms around his waist.  “It’s almost closing time.  Got any plans for this evening?” she asked, looking hopeful. 

“I’m afraid I’m going to be working late tonight,” he said.  “I want to go over all the leopard’s test results in detail and see if we’ve missed anything.” 

“Want me to stay and help?” she said, closing the distance so that their bodies were flush. 

“Thank you, Alana, but with you here I’m not sure I would be able to concentrate on my work,” he teased gently.  “Besides, there really isn’t much you could help me with.” 

“Will you call me if you finish up early?” 

“I promise.” 

“All right, then.  See you,” she said releasing him with one last provocative look and heading for the door.   

When Alana was gone Hannibal picked up the plastic bag and held it to the light. 

“Pizza,” he said to the empty laboratory.  “That’s strange.  That’s very strange.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Will and Hannibal finally meet in a very unconventional manner.


	6. Chapter 6

Will walked toward the leopard's cage.  It was some nine feet square.  There were heavy bars on three sides.  The fourth side backed up to the brick building, and there was a small doorway where the leopard could go into what Will was certain was a similar cage inside the building.  A wooden shelf, six feet long by three feet deep, was fastened halfway up the back wall.  The cage looked for all the world like a prison cell. 

At the rear of the cage, half hidden in the shadows, sat the black leopard.  For what seemed to him like an eternity, Will and the cat had been regarding each other silently. 

“Poor thing,” Will said at last.  The cat was in distress.  It gave no outward signs, but somehow Will knew.  _He knew_. 

“Are you in pain?” he asked softly. 

The cat did not move. 

“No, it isn’t that, is it?  You’re a prisoner here.  Locked up.  They’ve taken your freedom.  There is nothing worse than that.  I understand.” 

The leopard cocked his head, watching Will with unblinking green eyes. 

“You are such a beautiful creature,” Will said.  “What a shame it is to keep you locked up like this.  I wonder where your home is.  Your real home, I mean.  I bet you miss it.”  Sighing Will said, “I miss my home back in Wolf Trap.  It was a lot more open and free.  Here there’s nothing but noise and people.  I used to love going off to the lake by myself to fish.  It was so peaceful there.  I bet you would like it there.” 

He took a tentative step toward the cage.  The leopard stood up.  Its muscles tensed under the shiny black coat.  Will stopped. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.  I would never do anything to hurt you.  You know that, don’t you?” 

The cat blinked its eyes. 

“You do trust me, don’t you?  Has someone been mistreating you?  Was it that annoying man who I heard cursing earlier?  He didn’t seem very nice.” 

Moving in graceful slow motion, the leopard approached the bars at the front of the cage where Will stood. 

“It’s all right,” he said softly.  “You can come closer to me.  I’m your friend.” 

The big cat reached the bars, his eyes never leaving Will’s face.  A red rasp of a tongue slid out and ran over the shiny black leather of his nose. 

“Yes, you are beautiful,” Will said, smiling.  “I wonder if you know how truly beautiful you are.” 

Will pulled his sketchbook and a pencil out of his bag and tossed the bag on the ground.  “I’m going to draw your picture,” he said.  “Would you like that?  You and I can just relax here in the quiet and pretend we’re somewhere else while I draw your picture.” 

The leopard rotated his sleek head and growled from deep in his throat.  There was no threat in the growl.  It was more like a greeting. 

Will smiled in answer.  “You’re glad I’ve come, aren’t you?  I can tell.  I can almost tell what you’re thinking.  Almost.” 

The leopard sat, straight and proud, as though he were posing.  Will poised the pencil over his sketchbook and began to draw. 

As he filled page after page with studies of the leopard he lost all sense of time and place.  He was completely unaware of the gradual darkening of the sky and the exodus of the people from the main zoo.  Here in this sheltered nook nothing existed except the big cat and himself. 

 

Up in the administration building Hannibal sat hunched over his cluttered desk.  The sky grew dark outside the window, but he paid no attention.  Over and over he read the reports prepared by the city veterinarians who had examined the black leopard.  Nothing in the reports indicated that there was anything physically wrong with the cat.  And yet, something definitely was wrong. 

For one thing, there was the sheer size of the creature.  A mature male leopard should weigh approximately 145 pounds.  This one weighed in at 175 pounds, 30 pounds more than the average for the species.  The cat’s measurements—height, girth, length, paw print—all exceeded the norm.  Hannibal could find no explanation for any of this in the medical reports.  All he could do was hope that Dr. Sutcliffe could shed some light on the situation when he arrived from the Coast. 

Even more puzzling than the size of the cat was the mystery of where it came from.  Naturally the two black leopards housed across the city at the Audubon Park Zoo had been checked out at once and had been found snug and secure in their cages where they belonged.  A query to all circuses that might conceivably have been in the area also came up negative. 

The idea that some private citizen in New Orleans had been keeping a black leopard in their back yard was preposterous.  Yet there seemed to be no other explanation.  Every known cat within a five-hundred-mile radius of the city had been accounted for.  And he couldn’t deny that whoever had the cat before kept it in peak physical condition.  The cat’s muscle tone was outstanding, not the physique of a cat who had been living a lazy, sedentary life lounging around someone’s home. 

The whole affair became more puzzling the deeper Hannibal dug into it.  Even assuming that someone in the city was foolish enough to keep an illegal carnivorous wild animal as a pet, and further assuming that he was now too frightened to come forward and claim it, how the devil could a 175-pound black leopard make his way along Bourbon Street, one of the busiest streets in the world, and stroll up a flight of stairs to a massage parlor without being seen by even one person?  It was a question that Sergeant Crawford and the whole New Orleans Police Department had not been able to answer, and it baffled him as well. 

Hannibal pushed his chair back from the desk and leaned back, closing his tired eyes.  He had not slept much since the big cat came into his life.  Hadn’t even relaxed much.  Maybe he should have let Alana stay tonight, as she had offered.  She would have been pleasant company.  And now they could leave together, go to his place for a drink or two, and go to bed and have tension-releasing sex. 

Hannibal was genuinely fond of Alana.  He admired her as a professional in the same line of work.  And her physical attributes did not escape him either.  He enjoyed their time spent together and their lovemaking.  But he was not _in_ love with her. 

Lately he had begun to worry that Alana’s feelings for him were going beyond the limits of good fun.  It could make for an uncomfortable working situation.  No, he decided, it was for the best that he had sent her on home tonight.  In fact, he resolved to start gradually cooling the whole relationship. 

His musings along this line were interrupted by a roar from the direction of the quarantine building.  It was not a cry of pain or distress, but somehow carried a feeling of joy. 

Hannibal raised his head to listen.  The cat roared again, and he again got the sense that the cat was happy.  But that didn’t make any sense.   

Hannibal got up from his chair and stretched.  He needed to take a break from his work anyway so he would take a walk down there and check on the cat. 

He left the building and made his way down the slope toward the little grove of trees.  Beyond them the leopard’s cage at the end of the building was in deep shadow.  Hannibal fancied he could hear sounds coming from the vicinity of the leopard’s cage, but he could not be sure.  The night creatures of the zoo were talking to one another. 

He pushed his way through the brush at the bottom of the slope and into the trees.  He made slow progress avoiding tree branches and roots that seemed to reach out of the darkness for him. 

When at last he came out of the far side of the clump of trees he stopped.  The clouds that had hung over the city all day parted, and the scene was bathed in chilly moonlight. 

Hannibal froze.  A shout caught in his throat at what he saw.  The moon was bright enough now that there could be no doubt.  Someone was standing at the leopard’s cage no more than a foot away from the bars.  They were close enough that if the leopard decided to strike out, they would be skewered.  What was the fool thinking? 

He choked back the impulse to cry out a warning.  Moving as swiftly and silently as he could, Hannibal crossed the grassy patch between the trees and the cage.  If he made any noise that startled the person or the leopard now, tragedy could be the result. 

However, as he drew closer to the quarantine cage he was surprised to see that the leopard, like an overgrown kitty cat, was rubbing his head against the bars, clearly enjoying the attention he was receiving.  The figure standing at the bars was speaking to the leopard, and Hannibal could tell now that it was a young man.  He could almost understand the leopard’s reaction as the man had a very nice voice. 

Stealthily, Hannibal moved up behind him.  The man was still talking to the cat in a soft, melodious voice. 

“Yes, you are beautiful.  I wish I could take you back to Wolf Trap with me and set you free in the woods.  I could visit you and we could go down to the lake and you could lay in the sun and watch me fish, and then afterwards we could both eat whatever I caught.  I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

For a moment Hannibal had the giddy feeling that he was interrupting a pair of lovers.  He shook it off and crept up quietly behind the man.  Under his breath he prayed that no twig would snap beneath his foot and turn the bizarre tableau into a bloody nightmare.  The leopard, he could see, was still rubbing his face on the bars, as if trying to entice the man to pet him. 

When he was as close as he dared go, Hannibal leapt at the man, caught him around the waist and quickly drug him backwards.  Their feet became entangled and he fell backward, pulling the man down on top of him.  He hit the ground hard, and for several seconds just lay there winded, maintaining his hold on the man.  He could feel the wild beating of his heart.  He also felt how the soft curve of his ass seemed to mold itself perfectly against his groin.  The man’s head was currently cushioned on his shoulder, his hair tickling his cheek, his throat mere inches from Hannibal’s mouth.  Hannibal turned his head, following a delectable, elusive scent, and inhaled deeply.  His body immediately began to have an inappropriate reaction.  _Omega_ , his mind supplied.  

The man seemed to have gotten over his shock and was starting to struggle, pulling in a lungful of air, and Hannibal was afraid he was going to scream. 

“Please be calm,” he said, making his own voice as casual as possible.  “I am the curator here.  My name is Hannibal Lecter.  I’m not going to hurt you.” 

The man froze, and for a moment the only sound was their breathing.  The leopard was growling, clearly agitated now, pacing back and forth while watching them.   

“All right, I’m calm,” the man said, “but do you think you could release me now?” 

“My apologies,’ Hannibal said, immediately removing his arm. 

They both got up awkwardly, brushing bits of grass and dirt from their clothing.  Hannibal felt embarrassed by his unexpected reaction to this man, so when he asked, “Just what did you think you were doing out here?” it came out a bit more brusquely than he intended. 

“I was sketching the leopard.” 

“Sketching, you say?” 

“That’s right.”  The man—more a boy really—looked around on the grass until he spied his sketchpad.  He picked it up and held it out for Hannibal to see while he flipped the pages, and it seemed to be drawings of the leopard, as he had said.  There were head studies, upper body, and full length.  Hannibal started to examine the drawings with a critical eye, as he liked to sketch himself, then realized the absurdity of the situation. 

“There are any number of animals here at the zoo you could have sketched.  This is a restricted area and this animal is in quarantine, not to mention the fact that you were standing close enough to the bars that the leopard could have easily gotten hold of you if he had taken a notion,” he said angrily.   

“I saw him on TV and just wanted to see him.  Then I could tell he was frightened.  I think it was that man down here earlier that was yelling and throwing a fit about something,” Will told him. 

 _Franklyn,_ Hannibal thought.  _I’m going to have to have a word with him._

Hannibal had been wondering as of late if the beta hadn’t taken the job just to be around him.  They had met at a zoo fundraiser where Franklyn’s uncle, as it turned out, was on the zoo’s board.  Franklyn had tried to engage him in conversation, going on about artisanal cheeses and his favorite wines, until Hannibal had excused himself to use the facilities just to get away from the man.  But then the following day Frederick Chilton had called to tell him that Franklyn was to be his new assistant.  His qualifications appeared to be a few pre-med classes he had taken and his uncle’s clout with the zoo.  After he started, Franklyn was constantly asking him if he wanted to go have lunch together or go out for drinks after work.  Hannibal had initially brushed it off as enthusiasm, but lately he wasn’t so sure.  Alana could be right though when she said Franklyn did not seem to have the right temperament to work around animals. 

Coming out of his musings he said, “Nonetheless, you could have been hurt and the zoo would have been liable.  Don’t you realize that this is a highly dangerous animal?  We know for a fact that he has mauled one woman severely.” 

“He just needed some understanding and affection.” 

“Oh, you could sense that, could you?” 

“As a matter of fact, I could,” Will said, ignoring the sarcasm.  “And if you’re supposed to be the curator here, I should think you could sense things about animals too.” 

“I can, sometimes,” Hannibal said in a curious tone.  “But I still wouldn’t go standing within reach of an unfamiliar animal who could rip out my liver with one swipe of his paw.” 

“I was in no danger,” he said, shrugging.  “You can sense when an animal is getting ready to attack.”   

 _Interesting boy,_ Hannibal thought.  “You know who I am now,” he said, intrigued; “perhaps you would be so kind as to give me your name?” 

“I’m Will.  Will Graham,” he said, holding out his hand and smiling.   

In the moonlight Hannibal saw that the boy had a nice smile.  An exceptionally nice smile. 

Hannibal took his hand and shook it.  His hand was soft and warm and Hannibal was reluctant to release it.  “Welcome to the New Orleans Zoo, Mr. Graham.  I would be glad to show you around personally next time, but it might be better if you come during the hours when we’re open to the public.” 

“I’m sorry,” Will said, looking abashed.  “I guess I lost track of the time.” 

The boy suddenly swayed slightly. 

“What’s wrong?” Hannibal asked alarmed, moving closer and putting an arm out to steady him. 

“Nothing.  Just a little dizzy,” he said.   

Hannibal stepped closer and put a hand to his forehead.  “You’re feverish,” he said.  “Come up to my office and I’ll get you something,” he said, taking his elbow. 

“Oh, no…”

“Come on now.  I promise I don’t bite,” Hannibal said, smiling and flashing his alpha fangs, pulling him toward the administration building. 

Behind them, the leopard growled softly and watched them walk away. 

Will let himself be led through the trees and up the grassy slope to the administration building.  Hannibal took him into his work area and persuaded him to lie down on the couch.  He soaked a cloth under cold running water, wrung it out, and laid it gently across his forehead. 

“I don’t want to be any trouble to you,” Will said. 

“Hush.  If I can find a thermometer, I’ll take your temperature and we’ll see if we ought to call a genuine doctor for you.” 

He shook a couple of pills from a bottle into his hand and gave them to Will with a plastic cup of water. 

“In the meantime, take these.” 

“I’d rather not.” 

“It’s only aspirin.” 

“I don’t need it.  Really, I feel all right now.” 

Will took the damp cloth from his forehead and sat up.  He smiled at him. 

“See?  Good as new.” 

Hannibal looked at him suspiciously.  “You sure didn’t seem all right a few minutes ago,” he said, putting his hand on Will’s forehead again.  “That’s funny.  You were burning up when I brought you in here.  Now you feel perfectly normal.” 

“I have a peculiar metabolism,” he said, shrugging.  “Doctors have told me I don’t have the same kind of reactions that other people do.  It’s just hot outside and I haven’t had anything to eat or drink since breakfast.  I don’t suppose you have any food lying around?” Will asked sheepishly.    

“Not unless you’d like a nice mash of meal worms and crickets.” 

Will made a face. 

“Or horsemeat tartare?” Hannibal teased. 

“I don’t think so,” Will said, smiling. 

“I’ll tell you what, I’m about to close up shop for the night and I’m kind of hungry myself.  Why don’t we have dinner together?  My treat.” 

“I’d like that,” Will said. 

Hannibal blinked in surprise.  He had expected the omega to be coy about it while they went through the usual song and dance of making a first date.  This was a pleasant surprise. 

“Good,” he said.  “There’s a little seafood place nearby that I think you’ll like.” 

“I love seafood.  But, please, nothing fancy.” 

“I know a place where the food is excellent, the ambience is clean but not fancy, and the napkins are paper, not cloth.  Will that do?” 

“That sounds perfect,” Will said, smiling up at the alpha, and Hannibal was suddenly extremely happy that he hadn’t taken Alana up on her offer. 

When they left the zoo, Hannibal made sure that they did not walk anywhere near the black leopard. 


	7. Chapter 7

The Little Napoleon Fish House on Toulouse Street was not advertised in the tourist guides.  Little attention was paid to atmosphere.  However, it was well known to the local people who appreciated good food at a reasonable price and did not need frills. 

The Little Napoleon had an oyster bar where a cheerful black man cracked open the shells of fresh oysters with hands that moved faster than the eye could follow.  The lights were kept low so the plain wooden tables didn’t look too shabby.  There was no live music and no jukebox, but the door was always open so the customers could enjoy the sounds of a jazz band playing a couple of doors away at the corner of Bourbon Street, which meant the noise level was low enough so that you could talk without shouting. 

Hannibal and Will sat across from each other at one of the booths.  Hannibal watched with a smile as Will dipped the last of his half dozen oysters into the spicy sauce and popped it into his delectable mouth. 

“Am I doing it wrong?” he asked. 

“What’s that?” 

“The way you were looking at me, I thought maybe I was eating the oysters wrong.” 

Hannibal laughed.  “Not that I’m aware of.  I’m just glad to see that you have such a hearty appetite.  For a while back there, I was afraid that you were one of those fragile omegas.” 

“I told you, I have a strange metabolism.” 

“Maybe so, but there’s certainly nothing wrong with the rest of you.”  Hannibal blinked and blushed as if just realizing what he said.  

“Why, are you flirting with me, Mr. Curator?” Will asked, cocking his head a bit and looking up at Hannibal through his lashes. 

“Just a little, I suppose.  Laying the groundwork, you might say.” 

Will put an elbow on the table and rested his chin on the palm of his hand.  “You don’t look much like a curator,” he said, studying his face.   

“Oh?  What does a curator look like?” 

“Older, for one thing.  Gray hair, getting thin on top.  Wire-rim glasses.  A slight stoop.  Jacket with leather patches at the elbows.” 

“I do have one of those jackets at home.” 

Will laughed.  “You still don’t fit the image.” 

“If not a curator, what _do_ I look like?” 

Will hummed thoughtfully.  “I don’t know.  Maybe a high-school football coach.  Or somebody who races cars.  Or a mountain climber.” 

“Those all sound very glamorous,” he said, “but what I am is the curator of the New Orleans Zoo.” 

The waiter arrived with two platters of flaky pompano caught that morning in Breton Sound.  It was served with lemon-butter sauce, a baked potato, and fresh asparagus. 

“They have a pretty good house Chablis here,” Hannibal said. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather have a glass of milk.” 

“Why should I mind?”  To the waiter he said, “One glass of milk and a small carafe of Chablis.” 

“I never acquired a taste for wine,” he apologized. 

“That is a shame, because I was planning to get you drunk and have my way with you.” 

“So that’s why were you were feeding me all those oysters,” Will teased, enjoying their banter.   

“It was worth a try,” he said with an elaborate shrug. 

Will took a bite of the pompano and closed his eyes in pleasure.  “This is delicious.  I _do_ love fish.” 

Hannibal smiled, sharing his enjoyment. 

“The waiter brought the milk and the wine.  Will and Hannibal toasted each other. 

“So, are you going to tell me just what the curator of a zoo does?” he said. 

“Are you really interested?” 

“Of course I am.  I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.” 

“I oversee the veterinary work.  Do a lot of research.  I’m responsible for buying the animals, when we have the budget for it.  I also sell animals when we have a surplus of a particular breed. I set up the exhibits.  And sometimes, when we get a donation or win a government grant, I’ll head up an expedition.” 

“An expedition?  Like into the jungle?” 

“Sometimes.” 

“Now, that sounds exciting!  I’ve always dreamed of trekking through the jungle.  You see, I knew there was something glamorous about you.” 

“I’m glad you think so, but most of my expeditions are into the bureaucratic jungles.  A lot of the local politicians don’t think New Orleans needs two zoos.  Between you and me, they may be right. 

“How long have you done this kind of work?” 

“Since I got out of college.  That would be almost eight years now.  But it really started when I was a kid.  I was always comfortable around animals.  Spent more time with them than I did with people.  I still do, when it comes right down to it.” 

“I love animals too,” Will said seriously. “They’re so, I don’t know, honest.” 

“I know what you mean.”  Hannibal grinned suddenly.  “I never knew a monkey who would cheat on his golf score.  But that’s enough of the Hannibal Lecter story for one evening.  Tell me about yourself.  Where do you come from?  You don’t sound like you’re from around here.  What are you doing in New Orleans?  And, more importantly, how did I happen to find you in my zoo standing in front of my leopard?” 

“Which question do you want me to answer first?” he said. 

“Take your choice.” 

“What am I doing in New Orleans?  I’m looking for a job, for one thing.  I thought my brother, Matt, was going to help me, but he’s been busy and I haven’t even seen him since I got here two days ago.  I’m just passing time until I get a chance to talk to him.” 

“What kind of job are you looking for?” 

“Eventually I want to get into commercial art.  That’s what I studied for.  In the meantime I’ll take anything I can find to tide me over.  I’m good with children.  My mom—the one who adopted me, that is—ran a small daycare and I used to help take care of the kids.” 

“You were adopted?” 

Will looked uncomfortable. “Yes.  I … never really knew my real parents.” 

“Look, it’s none of my business.  I didn’t mean to pry.” 

“It’s all right,” he told him, “I don’t mind talking about it.  A therapist I went to told me it would be good for me to talk about it.”  He drew a deep breath and continued.  “When I was four years old my father shot my mother to death, then killed himself.  Some sort of a love triangle.” 

Hannibal reached across the table and took his hand.  “I’m so sorry.” 

“It was a long time ago.  Sixteen years.  I actually don’t remember anything about it.  I was young enough I could block it out.  A lucky thing, I guess.  Still, sometimes I wonder about them, my mother and father.  What they were like.  In the pictures I’ve seen, they were a very good-looking couple.” 

“I’m not surprised,” Hannibal said.  “They have good-looking children.” 

“My brother Matt will be pleased to hear that,” he said teasingly. 

“Look,” Hannibal began awkwardly, “until you find something you really want to do, how would you like to work at the zoo?” 

Will’s face lit up.  “The zoo!  To work around animals all day.  I’d love it!  But I really don’t have any qualifications for that kind of work.” 

“For what I have in mind,” Hannibal said, “you wouldn’t need any qualifications other than a good personality and a nice smile, and you certainly have those.” 

“Why thank you, kind sir,” he said blushing but pleased. 

“And it’s not exactly working with animals; it’s in the gift shop.  One of the employees there quit suddenly, and we need somebody to fill in until we find a permanent replacement.” 

“It sounds perfect.  Can you really arrange it?” 

“I’m not sure.  Let me speak to the curator first.”  Hannibal turned his head to the side and then back again.  “He says you can start tomorrow if you want.” 

“Please tell him I would be happy to start tomorrow,” Will laughed.

Hannibal signaled the waiter to bring the check.  He watched as Will drank the last of his milk.  It left a pale moustache on his upper lip and Hannibal’s breath caught when he licked it off with his pointed pink tongue. 

Hannibal paid the check and they walked out to the parking lot, where he had left the truck.  He helped Will in on the passenger side, then went around and got in behind the wheel. 

“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in coming to my place for a nightcap?” Hannibal asked, testing the waters.  

“On our first date?  I’m afraid you overestimate the power of those oysters.” 

“I take it that means no?” 

Will smiled and touched his arm.  “Not this time, Hannibal.  I really am very tired.” 

“Then there will be another time?” 

“If you want there to be.” 

“Very much so,” Hannibal said as he keyed the engine to life.  “So, where to?” 

Will gave him the address and they talked easily about inconsequential things as they drove out quiet St. Charles Street.  Will was animated and cheerful.  Hannibal thought he was incredibly beautiful in the intermittent light from the overhead street lamps. 

“That’s it,” Will said, “the house up ahead with no lights.” 

Hannibal pulled to a stop and looked up at the front of the dark brick house behind the forbidding iron fence. 

“This is where you live?” 

“My brother does.  I’m staying here until I can get settled and find a place of my own.” 

“It looks kind of grim.” 

“It’s been in the family for over a hundred years.  Maybe the house reflects the lives of the people who have lived in it.” 

“Then if you stay here any length of time it’s bound to brighten up.” 

Will smiled at Hannibal, and then impulsively leaned across the seat and kissed him on the cheek.  As he started to draw back, Hannibal took hold of his shoulders and pulled him against him.  He kissed him firmly on the mouth.  After a momentary resistance, Will relaxed in his arms and responded to the kiss.  Hannibal felt an almost unbearable desire for this man building inside him.  Without warning Will pulled away and fumbled for the door handle. 

“I’ve got to go in.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“No, I just … it’s late, that’s all.” 

Hannibal reached across him and held the door closed.  “No, tell me if I did something wrong, please.” 

“No,” he said earnestly.  “You did everything right.  That’s the trouble.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing.  Please let me go in.” 

Hannibal released his grip on the door.   Will pushed it open but made no move to get out. 

You’re not angry with me, are you?” Hannibal said. 

Will gave him that smile again, the one that made him tighten up around the diaphragm.  “No.  I had a marvelous evening.  Good dinner, good talk, good company.  And I even found a job.  If the offer still holds, that is,” he said, looking up at him hopefully.” 

“The offer stands,” he said.  “Come back by the administration building about ten tomorrow morning.” 

Will pulled Hannibal’s head down and kissed him with surprising vigor.  “I’ll be there.”  He stepped out of the cab and hurried up the walk to the gloomy old house. 

Hannibal sat there until Will was safely inside the house.  He started the engine but stayed where he was for another minute.  Quite an omega, this Will Graham, he thought.  Flirtatious as a kitten one minute, standoffish the next.  A familiar pattern with some, but he didn’t think it was calculated with Will.  He was special.  This one could steal his heart if he wasn’t careful. 

He put the truck in gear and drove away, smiling the whole way home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter Will starts his new job at the zoo with Hannibal. Oh, and also with Alana and Franklyn. And, oh yeah, let’s not forget that mysterious leopard is there too. What could possibly go wrong?


	8. Chapter 8

The morning was hot.  And humid.  It was the kind of day that happened all too frequently in New Orleans but was not mentioned in the brochures sent out by the tourist bureau. 

Even the zoo animals seemed affected by the heat.  The usual morning creatures like the birds and the deer sat listlessly regarding the few tourists who had dragged themselves away from their air-conditioned hotel rooms. 

One of the few animals unaffected by the weather was the black leopard in quarantine.  He prowled restlessly from one side of the outdoor cage to the other, glaring all the while at the three people standing outside the bars, talking about him. 

Hannibal Lecter held a clipboard to which was fastened a list of foods, with quantities and frequency of feeding in matching vertical columns.  Hannibal ticked off the items one by one to Alana Bloom, who listened attentively.  On the other side of Hannibal, Franklyn was glaring at the cat with his hands in his pockets. 

“He’s ready to be put on a regular feeding schedule now,” Hannibal said.  “One day of fasting, one day of light feeding, then five days’ regular food.  We want to vary the diet but keep it balanced.  You know the usual mix—some viscera, some muscle meat—” 

Alana picked it up.  “—with a few bones now and then, along with the vitamin supplements.  Maybe a regular diet will mellow him out.” 

“Not this one,” Franklyn said, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest.  “He’s just plain mean.” 

“If an animal is mean,” Hannibal told him, “you can bet someone is responsible.” 

Franklyn scowled but said nothing. 

“I don’t suppose I have to tell you,” Hannibal went on, “that I don’t want you in the cage with him again.” 

“Not freaking likely,” Franklyn said. 

“Remember it.  You still have a lot to learn about working with animals, and this isn’t the type of animal you should start with.” 

“That’s fine with me.  I got a perfectly good uniform ruined by cat puke.” 

“I’ll see if we can pay for cleaning your clothes out of the budget,” Hannibal said, sighing.  “In the meantime, just stay away from the cat.” 

“I heard you the first time,” Franklyn said petulantly. 

Hannibal stared at him for a moment, then turned to Alana.  He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a zip-locked plastic bag.  Inside was a dead rat, freshly thawed from the freezer. 

“Here’s a little treat you can give him.  A little extra protein never hurts.” 

Alana took the bag from him and gazed at it with large blue eyes.  “Gosh, chief, for a minute I thought it was for me.” 

“Play your cards right, and I might rummage up another one.”  Hannibal’s bantering tone faltered as his eyes strayed up the slope toward the administration building. 

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said.  He tossed the plastic bag containing the dead rat to Alana and strode off along the path toward the administration building. 

Alana caught the bag with one hand.  “Thanks a lot,” she said to Hannibal’s retreating back, disappointed that Hannibal had left so suddenly.  She shaded her eyes against the sun and peered up the slope. 

“Who is that?” she asked Franklyn. 

Franklyn followed her gaze.  “Never saw him before.  Maybe he’s going to be a new exhibit.” 

“Very funny.”  Alana zipped open the bag and took out the rat.  There was no squeamishness in the way she handled the dead rodent. 

“Here pussycat,” she said, and tossed the rat neatly between the bars into the leopard’s cage. 

The leopard moved his head swiftly and caught the rat in his mouth the way a dog catches a ball.  With the rat’s head protruding from one side of his mouth and the tail drooping from the other, the big cat looked directly at Franklyn.  Then he closed his powerful jaws and pulverized the rat like a peanut, never breaking eye contact with him. 

“Fucking cat,” Franklyn cursed, now that Hannibal was gone.  But he felt a shiver go down his spine. 

Hannibal felt his whole mood lighten seeing Will.  He slowed down and reminded himself to use restraint.  After all, they had been together only once.  Still, that once had ended in a rather passionate kiss that had had Hannibal wishing for more. 

“I’m glad you came,” Hannibal said in greeting. 

“I told you I would.” 

“Do you always do what you say?” 

Will smiled coquettishly.  “Not always.” 

Hannibal laughed.  “Well, I’m glad you did this time.  Let me walk you over to the gift shop.” 

“I wonder …” Will hesitated. 

“What?” 

“Would it be possible for me to see the leopard?” 

“You really like that cat, don’t you?” 

He nodded. 

“His cage is being cleaned right now, it wouldn’t be a good time.  I’ll take you down later, if you like.” 

“Whatever you say, boss.” 

Hannibal took his arm and they walked together to the gift shop by the zoo’s main entrance.  On the way, Will asked insightful questions about the animals they passed and Hannibal answered with enthusiasm, delighted to find his own interests shared by this man who stirred him so deeply in many ways. 

Business in the gift shop was slow, as it was everywhere on this muggy day.  Hannibal led Will back to a motherly-looking woman who stood by the cash register. 

“Will, this is Mrs. Deever.  She manages the place.” 

“I’m surely glad to have you for as long as you can stay,” Mrs. Deever said.  “I’ve been running the place alone since my last employee up and got married on me.  You’re not planning on getting married, are you?” 

“Not right away,” Will said, “looking over at Hannibal, and then blushing, which had Hannibal smiling. 

Although he had other things to do, Hannibal walked around the shop with Will as Mrs. Deever showed him where the stock was, and how to write up orders and work the cash register.  He pretended an interest in the cups and ashtrays and pennants and other souvenirs bearing the name of the New Orleans Zoo.  He watched with pleasure Will’s obvious delight as he handled the cuddly stuffed animals and the ceramic figurines.  Will only grew serious when he came upon a statuette of a black leopard, jaws wide, teeth bared for attack.  He stroked the smooth black head with a forefinger and whispered something only he could hear. 

 

A few hours later at the quarantine building Alana completed her daily collection of stool samples for the sick and quarantined animals inside.  She wondered, not for the first time, if this was any kind of work for an attractive beta of marriageable age to be doing.  It seemed worthwhile when she and Hannibal were together, but lately they weren’t together nearly enough. 

She walked outside with her gathered samples and saw Franklyn coming up the path from the zoo and said, “Where have you been?” 

“At the gift shop checking out the competition.” 

“What are you talking about?” she said, looking up from her clipboard.   

“The guy that Hannibal rushed off to see earlier today, he’s working at the gift shop.  Hannibal’s been up there a couple of times so I went up there to see what all the fuss was about.  The guy’s an omega and I think Hannibal has a thing for him.  He’s not even that good looking, if you ask me.”  

“Hannibal’s never even mentioned this guy,” Alana said, frowning.  Maybe she needed to check him out as well.  “Uh, Franklyn, can you take these samples up to the lab?” Alana said, pushing the baggies into Franklyn’s arms.  “I’m due for a break now,” she said, heading in the direction of the gift shop. 

Franklyn watched her go and smiled.  She was clearly annoyed.  He didn’t know what Hannibal saw in the bossy bitch.  He knew Alana had the hots for Hannibal and suspected there was some fooling around going on after hours.  If she wasn’t here, Hannibal might pay more attention to him.  He wished the leopard had puked on her instead, made her look like a fool. 

 

Alana walked down the path, past the exhibits and over to the gift shop.  She entered and walked around looking at items on the shelves while checking out the new guy in her peripheral while he helped a pair of boy scouts who were buying some StarWars trading cards.   When they left she walked over to him.  “Hi, I’m Alana, chief assistant to the curator,” she said, purposely using her title to see what reaction she got.  “You must be new here.” 

“Oh, hi.  I’m Will.  Pleased to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand.  “This is actually my first day, and I’m sure it shows,” he said smiling.  “But, so you work with Hannibal then!  That’s wonderful!  He’s really very nice.  He helped me get this job.” 

 _Hannibal, huh,_ Alana thought with annoyance.  “So, then you’re a friend of Hannibal’s I take it,” Alana said, fishing for information. 

“Well, no.  I mean, not really.  We only just met yesterday.  But when I mentioned I was looking for work, he got me this job.  I couldn’t believe it.” 

“You don’t sound like you’re from New Orleans.” 

“I’m not.  I mean, I was originally, but I’ve been away for many years.  I just arrived back a few days ago.” 

“Strange, isn't it?  People here are crazy.  It's the humidity.  Have you seen much of the city?”

“No.  I'd like to, though.”

Why don’t we have a drink after work?  I can suggest some places that you should see.” 

“I’d like that.” 

“I’ll swing by at closing time and pick you up.” 

“Thank you, Alana.  See you then!” Will said happily to the retreating woman.  He had a job, had met an alpha that he really liked, and now he might just have a new friend. Things were going so well.  If only Mattie would come home. 

Alana was fuming as she headed back to the quarantine building.  Hannibal had only met this guy yesterday and had gotten him a job?  Really?  And, worse, despite what Franklyn said, Will was extremely attractive and nice.  Plus he had that slightly vulnerable omega look about him that alphas go nuts for.  This one, unfortunately, was going to be real competition.  The question is, what was she going to do about it?

 

The Kingfish Bar in the French Quarter, named after legendary Louisiana Governor Huey P. Long, was a stunning bar, with an old-meets-new feel featuring a pressed-tin back bar, exposed hanging Edison lamps, plenty of French Quarter brickwork, and, naturally, an oversized photo at the end of the bar of the Kingfish himself. 

Will waited at a small table while Alana went to get their drinks.  It was early yet, but there was already a good-sized crowd of people trying to unwind after a hard day on the job. 

Will found himself suddenly surrounded by three alphas who just came over and started talking to him.  He looked around nervously for Alana. 

“That color really looks good on you,” one alpha said, daring to touch the sleeve of his blue polo shirt.  “Where’d you get it?” another asked, as if he was planning to run right out and buy himself one. 

“Excuse me,” Alana said, nudging through the alphas and putting Will’s drink on the table in front of him. 

“Where the hell did she come from?” one of the alphas said rudely before they ambled off. 

“Jesus, don't encourage these assholes,” she said a bit testily.  _What the hell?  I leave this guy alone for two minutes and he gets swarmed by alphas?_

“How do you _not_ encourage them?” Will asked, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Tell them you’re gay, that you’re only into omegas.”

“Would they actually buy that?” 

“I do it all the time.  On the other hand, if you’re hoping to get laid tonight, just let me know so I know not to run interference,” Alana said hopefully.  She would love to go to work tomorrow and tell Hannibal she went out with the new employee from the gift shop and he went off with some random alpha he had just met. 

“I was just being friendly.  I was not trying to get laid,” Will said quietly, looking around embarrassed, hoping nobody could overhear them.

“Occasionally they're compatible.”

“I wouldn't know.”

“How come?”

“I never met anybody I liked enough to have sex with,” Will said, taking another sip of his whiskey and hoping she couldn’t see his blush in the dim lighting. 

“Never?” Alana said, incredulously. 

“Not so far, no.”

“Really?  You're still a virgin?”

“Come on, don't make it sound so perverse,” Will said with embarrassment.

“Not at all.  Just incomprehensible maybe, especially these days.  What do you do during your heats?” 

“When I know the time is close I go on hormone therapy, which makes it tolerable.  Plus, I lived out in the woods where there wasn’t a lot of temptation around, which helped.” 

“But you must have come close once or twice.”

“Yeah, once or twice.”

“How close?  Oh, come on, you can tell me,” Alana said, when she noticed his reluctance. 

“There was this one alpha, Anthony, I really liked...we petted and stuff like that.  He wanted to go all the way, and so did I but... I got scared.  I just had this strange feeling if I did it, something terrible would happen.  I just figure when it’s right, I’ll feel it and it will magical.  I guess I'm a romantic at heart.”

“Hey, I'm not knocking it,” Alana said.  “Here's to the magic,” she said, clinking his glass with her own and taking a healthy drink. 

“So,” Will said, “if you’re discouraging potential suiters by telling them you’re gay, I’m assuming that you’re seeing someone?” 

“Well, there is this one particular alpha that I’ve been kind of seeing for a while now.  I keep hoping he’ll take things to the next level, but alphas can be so stubborn sometimes, you know?  There just always seems to be something getting in the way,” she said, looking pointedly at the omega out of the corner of her eye as she downed the rest of her drink.  She then went back to the bar and ordered a double.   

 

The following day Alana and Franklyn were inside the quarantine building checking on the animals. 

“So, what did you think of that omega up at the gift shop,” Franklyn asked, watching Alana’s face for her reaction. 

“He seems nice enough.  Kind of tame and boring.  I don’t think he’s Hannibal’s type.” 

Franklyn smiled.  He knew a lie when he heard one.  “That’s funny, because I saw Hannibal head over to the gift shop about a half hour ago and haven’t seen him since.” 

He could practically see steam coming out of her ears. 

“Franklyn, the leopard’s cage needs hosed out now,” she said testily, “but keep the stream of water off the cat.  He’ll move out of the way if you give him a chance.” 

“I know the drill,” Franklyn said impatiently. 

“And I don’t have to tell you to stay clear of the bars,” she said, storming out of the building. 

“That’s right, you don’t have to tell me,” he said to her retreating back.  _Bitch._  

He twisted the water-spigot handle and directed a powerful stream from the hose into the leopard’s cage.  The big cat had come indoors to get out of the oppressive heat.  It stood to the side of the cage, watching apprehensively as the water sluiced over the floor toward him. 

“You’ve really got it made, you black bastard,” Franklyn told the cat.  “You get free meals and lodging, never have to do an hour’s work, and everybody fawns all over you.”

He moved the stream of water across the floor, inching closer to the leopard. 

“They’ll probably even find you a nice she-cat to stick your big black pecker into.  You never had it so good.  I should be so lucky as to get half the attention Dr. Lecter gives you,” he said, feeling sorry for himself.  “Plus I have to compete against that undeserving bitch,” he said, tilting his head in the direction Alana had just gone.  “And now there’s that omega who’s not even half as good looking as I am.  I mean, what’s the world coming to when someone like Dr. Lecter bypasses someone like me for a black cat, a bitch, and some unattractive omega.  

The leopard eased away from the advancing water, stepping daintily where the cage floor was already wet.  Franklyn gave the hose nozzle a flip, splattering a few drops across the cat’s paws. 

The sudden thundering roar startled Franklyn and he tripped over the hose, which had been draped over his left foot, and he stumbled toward the cage.  The cat raised a paw in Franklyn’s direction and let the deadly claws slide out of their sheaths. 

“Don’t you roar at me, you sonofabitch!” Franklyn used the stream of water like a whip and lashed it across the broad chest of the leopard. 

The big cat reacted with shocking ferocity.  With a piercing snarl it sprang across the cage and hit the bars facing Franklyn, a clawed paw making its way between the bars and taking a swipe at Franklyn.  Jungle hatred glowed in its green eyes. 

Franklyn took a startled step back, then glared back at the cat, the iron bars giving him courage.  “Don’t like the water, huh?  Well, that’s tough shit, kitty cat.  Life’s not fair and you might as well get used to that right now.” 

Franklyn adjusted the nozzle for the most powerful stream and aimed it directly into the cat’s face.  The animal backed away, shaking his big head back and forth, trying to escape the cold water.  Franklyn followed him with the hose. 

“Puke on me, will you?  Show me your claws?  Well, how do like this, sonofabitch?  You’re not so tough now, are you?  Maybe you’ll show me a little respect from now on.” 

The leopard spun frantically, trying to get away from the blast of water that continued to pelt his face, making it impossible for him to see the opening leading to the outside cage and escape.  Franklyn held the cold water stream on him mercilessly.  The cat backed up until he was pressed against the rear wall and roared in tormented protest. 

 

In the gift shop Mrs. Deever had finished showing Will how to process the merchandise whenever a new shipment came in.  Hannibal was beginning to feel conspicuous hanging around.  He had just stopped by to say good morning and bring Will a cup of coffee and a beignet he had made himself this morning

“Well, I suppose I should be getting back to the office.” 

Will walked with him to the door.  “I can’t thank you enough for getting me this job.  And for being so nice to me.” 

“It doesn’t pay a whole lot,” he said, “but it’s clean work.” 

“No, it’s fine.  Plus, I can be near the animals.  And it’s kind of nice being near you, too,” he added, smiling up at him.  “Thank you for the coffee and pastry.”    

From off in the distance they heard a wailing roar.  Will turned to Hannibal with a look of alarm. 

“Just one of the cats exercising his tonsils,” Hannibal said, but he was frowning. 

“No, it’s the leopard.  He’s in some kind of trouble.” 

Hannibal stared at him.  “Don’t tell me you can already tell the roar of one cat from another.” 

“The leopard needs help,” Will said, looking frantic.  “I need to go to him.” 

It was time to be firm, Hannibal decided.  “Will, your job is here in the gift shop.  Mine is looking after the animals.” 

Will’s gaze flicked beyond him, out the door.  “I know, but … something is happening to him.” 

“I’ll go and check on him, okay?  But you need to stay here.” 

“Okay.  But please hurry.” 

A couple with two children entered the gift shop. 

“You have customers,” Hannibal said.  I’ll talk to you later.” 

As he walked away, Will stood for a moment in the doorway, looking off toward the quarantine building.  When he heard Mrs. Deever clear her throat, he turned reluctantly and went to wait on the customers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter Franklyn finds out he done messed with the wrong pussycat! See you then! :)


	9. Chapter 9

When Hannibal walked into the quarantine building and saw Franklyn tormenting the leopard with the hose, his impulse was to strangle him on the spot.  However, he got a grip on himself and merely shut off the water.  He sent Franklyn home and told him to report to his office at noon the next day.  That would give him enough time to cool off before confronting the man, and give Franklyn time to think about what he had done. 

Now Franklyn was an hour late, and Hannibal was wishing he had just gone ahead and fired him yesterday on the spot when he wanted to.  He sat at his desk and stared up at a framed print showing a pride of lions majestically taking their ease on a vast African plain.  That, he thought, is where animals belong.  Free.  People too, for that matter. 

Another five minutes went by before the door opened and Franklyn slouched in.  His clothes were wrinkled and he smelled worse than the monkey cage. 

“You wanted to see me?”  There was an unevenness in the tone of his voice. 

“Have you been drinking?” Hannibal asked. 

“No,” Franklyn said quickly, but his eyes shifted away from Hannibal’s. 

“Ordinarily that would be enough to finish you here,” Hannibal said, “but it really doesn’t matter, because I’m letting you go anyway.” 

“What for?” Franklyn made a try at innocence. 

“I can see now that this type of work just isn’t suited to you, Franklyn.  I had hoped with a little time you would develop a feeling for the animals, but it hasn’t happened, and after yesterday’s display with the leopard, I can tell that it never will.”

“What do you mean?  I was just hosing down his cage. Is it my fault that _his lordship_ got in the way and a little water splashed on him?” 

“Franklyn, I saw you.  You deliberately turned the hose on the leopard.” 

“Well, what of it?  After what he did to me—” 

“The cat didn’t do anything to you that you didn’t ask for.  I don’t want to discuss it any further.  Clear out your locker and leave.  You will be paid through the end of the week, but I don’t want to see you around here again.  And don’t forget to turn in your keys.” 

Franklyn’s face turned a dark, angry red.  “Well, screw you then, Mister High and Mighty.  There are plenty of jobs out there that pay better than this chicken-shit operation.  I don’t know why I took this job to begin with.  It’s clear that you don’t know a good thing when you see one.  I’m too good for you, if you ask me,” he said drunkenly. 

“That’s enough,” Hannibal growled, standing up quickly, his alpha scent spiking with anger. 

Franklyn took a step back blinking, clearly intimidated.  “Screw you and this place,” he said belligerently before fleeing the room. 

Hannibal stood for a moment after he was gone, letting his muscles relax.  He was actually a little disappointed that Franklyn hadn’t engaged him.  He would have been happy for an excuse to smash the stupid little man’s face in.  Maybe he was spending too much time with the animals. 

 

Down in the basement Franklyn slammed his fist against the green-painted locker door. It made a satisfying bang, but it also hurt his fist.  He sucked at his bruised knuckles and glared around the deserted locker room. 

“He’s doing me a favor, that’s all,” he muttered.  “I only took this stinking job because we have so much in common, and I hoped we could get to know each other better if we worked together.  I’m perfect for him, but he never even noticed me.  All he notices are these stupid animals.  And who wants to spend their life working around a bunch of smelly animals, anyway?” 

He sorted through the keys that jangled on a ring at this belt and found the one that opened his locker.  He unlocked the door, opened it, and took down the half-pint vodka bottle from the top shelf.  The vodka level was down more than half. 

Franklyn raised the bottle toward the ceiling.  “Here’s to you, Mr. Don’t-Give-Me-The-Time-of-Day Curator.  Fuck you.”  He brought the bottle to his lips and drank, ending in a coughing fit when some of the liquor was sucked into his windpipe. 

When the coughing subsided he recapped the bottle and reached back to stuff it into a hip pocket.  However, his coordination was off and the bottle slipped out of his hand, shattering on the cement floor at his feet. 

“Goddamn it!” he swore, and kicked at the wet shards of glass.  This was all that stupid cat’s fault. Everyone knew that black cats were nothing but bad luck, and his luck had turned to shit ever since that cat had been brought here. 

Slowly the fury drained out of Franklyn’s face, to be replaced by an expression of drunken cunning.  Okay, so he was fired.  No big loss, he had hated the job anyway.  So before he left, why not give that freaking cat something to really remember him by. 

He walked across to the far end of the basement.  For a moment he paused before the locked cabinet where the guns were kept for dire emergencies.  It was tempting, but he really didn’t have the stomach for that.  Besides, that would get him in real trouble.  There was a better way to even the score with the cat. 

He walked over to the oversized chest that served as an equipment locker.  After trying several of the keys on his ring he found the one that popped open the padlock that secured the lid.  He reached inside and poked through the various nets, ropes, snares, and hobbles used when necessary to control the animals.  Near the bottom Franklyn found what he was looking for. 

It resembled a long pool cue, except that the tip was copper and the thick end had a rubber hand grip with a leather loop attached. 

Franklyn unscrewed the butt end and looked in to see that the batteries were in place.  But were they still good?  Dr. Lecter had forbidden the use of the electric cattle prod.  Franklyn screwed the butt back on, held the rubber hand grip, and brought the copper tip to within a half inch of the metal locker.  He pressed the trigger button.  A satisfying spark jumped from the tip of the prod to the locker. 

Franklyn laughed with glee.  “Oh, _yeah!_   You’re in for a shock, pussycat.”  He laughed all the louder at his joke. 

Taking care to slip out of the building unseen, Franklyn made his way down the bank and into the clump of trees.  His flesh tingled with excitement.  It was too bad he hadn’t thought of this a long time ago.  The leopard was not the only animal in the zoo he would like to hurt.  But the leopard was the worst of the lot.  He was the one who had puked on Franklyn, made him look like a fool in Dr. Lecter’s eyes, and cost him his job.  Well, time for a little payback.  That overgrown pussycat was going to rue the day he ever laid eyes on Franklyn Froideveaux. 

The leopard was in the cage inside the building, out of the sweltering heat.  He lay dozing on his shelf-bed when Franklyn approached his cage.  Franklyn smiled, his eyes bright with anticipation.  He moved to the wall and flipped a switch which lowered a steel door between the indoor and outdoor cages.  Now the leopard could not escape him. 

_Taking a little nap, are you, you lazy bastard?  A little catnap?_

Franklyn clapped a hand over his mouth to suppress the giggle that was trying to escape.  It would not do to wake the cat up before he was ready. 

Tip-toeing toward the bars, he looped the leather strap around his wrist, then slowly and carefully poked the electric prod between the bars, the tip moving toward the sleeping leopard. 

_Easy now, easy,_ he thought.  _Don’t want to spoil the surprise._  

The copper tip of the prod hovered just over the leopard’s glossy flank, just a hand span away from its fur. 

“Now!” Franklyn stabbed the tip of the prod against the animal’s side and punched the electrifying trigger button. 

There was a short sizzling sound, and the leopard went straight up into the air with a startled scream.  It landed on all fours in the center of the cage and looked around with hurt, bewildered eyes. 

Franklyn slapped the side of his leg and laughed.  Damned if that wasn’t the funniest thing he ever saw.  It was sure as hell worth getting fired for. 

The leopard saw him.  The puzzled look went out of the flat green eyes, to be replaced by a smoldering hatred. 

“How was that, you black bastard?” he mocked.  “You want some more?” 

The leopard snarled, moving toward Franklyn, baring its killer teeth. 

[](http://imgbox.com/KHWu2Nu7)

“You don’t scare me.  Not with these bars between us.”  He lunged like a fencer, hitting the trigger button as the tip of the prod touched the cat’s face. 

The leopard howled and sprang back to the far side of the cage.  He used one big paw to rub at his nose where the spark had burned him. 

Oh, this was just too good.  That sonofabitch was scared shitless.  Franklyn could not remember when he had felt so good.   

He moved around the outside of the cage to a spot closer to the leopard.  “You can’t get away from me,” he said.  “You’re a captive audience, as it were,” he said, laughing at his own joke.  “There’s no place you can go that I can’t reach you.” 

To prove it he lunged out with the prod again and shocked the cat in the center of his powerful chest.  The leopard howled again and spun away, hugging the back wall of the cage. 

Franklyn moved along the front bars until he and the animal were directly across from each other.  “I told you you can’t get away from me.  You know, I wonder what would happen if I stuck this thing right in your ear.  Maybe it’ll fry your brain.” 

The leopard was pressed against the center of the back wall of the cage in a semi-crouch, not moving.  Its lips pulled back into a grin of primeval rage as it waited, eyes locked on Franklyn.  Franklyn had to reach his arm in through the bars to reach him.  He was probing for one of the cat’s small, laidback ears. 

Faster than the eye could follow, the cat’s jaws snapped, and suddenly he had the electric prod clamped between his killer teeth.  Franklyn hit the switch, but the cat held it at the middle where the electrified tip was harmless to him. 

“What the hell?” Franklyn got out.  He released the hand grip and struggled to free his wrist from the tough leather strap around his wrist.  He was not fast enough.  With a toss of its head, the leopard jerked on the prod and Franklyn slammed up against the bars, immobile with his arm fully extended inside the cage. 

Franklyn stood with his face pressed against the steel bars, looking directly into those green, hate-filled eyes.  Neither the man nor the animal moved.  Franklyn’s right arm began to ache.  He smelled the stink of his own fear.  He opened his mouth to shout for help, but before the cry could pass his lips, the leopard released the prod and sank his teeth into Franklyn’s arm. 

 

The sound of the man’s scream jolted Hannibal out of his chair and sent him running for the door.  The scream had come from the direction of the quarantine building.  Hannibal did not want to speculate on what was happening down there. 

He bolted out of his office and down the hall toward the building exit.  As he headed for the door he almost collided with Alana, running from the opposite direction. 

“What is it?” she cried. 

“I don’t know.  It came from the direction of the quarantine building where the leopard is.” 

Without wasting more words Hannibal ran out through the door and down the slope toward the trees with Alana hot on his trail. 

 

In the gift shop, farther away from the quarantine building, Will had heard the leopard’s roar of rage and had stood in the doorway frozen, listening.  Then he heard the scream of a human.   

Mrs. Deever, who was laying out a fresh supply of “Born Free” T-shirts, looked over at him. 

“What is it, Will?” 

“Didn’t you hear that?” 

“Hear what, dear?  I didn’t hear anything.” 

As the man’s scream died, a sound reached Will’s ears that was even more chilling.  It was the low, triumphant growl of a cat that has caught its prey. 

“I have to go,” Will said, moving through the door. 

Mrs. Dever started after him.  The older woman’s face was creased with concern.  “Will, what’s the matter?” 

“I—I’m sorry,” Will said, fleeing out of the shop, heart in his throat at what he would find when he reached the leopard. 

 

As Hannibal burst out of the trees and into the clearing, he saw the outside quarantine cage was empty.  Another scream came from inside the building.  As he entered, he froze when he saw Franklyn jammed up tight against the bars on the outside of the leopard’s cage.  Inside, the black leopard sat, looking quite calm, with his jaws clamped on Franklyn’s arm at the elbow. 

Franklyn turned his head as far as he could manage and looked at him.  His face was waxen with pain and incipient shock. 

“Help me!”  His voice was hoarse and barely recognizable.  “Please, help me!” 

Alana came running up beside Hannibal and stopped suddenly.  “Oh, Jesus, the leopard’s got him!” 

“Stay here,” Hannibal said under his breath.  He started toward the cage, moving slowly, keeping his hands in sight so he would not alarm the leopard.  The big cat’s eyes followed his approach intently, but it did not move. 

“Take it easy now,” Hannibal said.  “Just take it easy.”  He was talking as much to Franklyn, obviously on the brink of panic, as he was to the leopard. 

When he came to within eight feet of the cage Hannibal saw the electric prod still attached to Franklyn’s wrist by the leather loop and deduced what had happened. 

_The fool!_  He took another step toward the cage.  The leopard growled softly and bit down a little harder on Franklyn’s arm. 

Franklyn squealed in pain.  The front of his pants darkened, and a pool of urine spread at his feet. 

Alana had moved up cautiously behind Hannibal.  “What can we do?” she whispered. 

“Go get the tranq gun out of the truck,” Hannibal said softly.  “I’ll try to lure him away with food.” 

Alana ran outside while Hannibal went to one of the freezers in the building and quickly pulled out a frozen rat. 

He held the rat up by the tail so the leopard could see it as he slowly walked toward the cage.  “Look here, a nice juicy rat.  I know you like these.  I’m sure it will taste much better than Franklyn,” he said, keeping an eye on the cat who was following his movements intently. 

Hannibal approached the corner of the cage.  He would toss the rat in and hopefully the leopard would catch it midair like he had in the past; then he would grab Franklyn and drag him away.  He tossed the rat at the leopard, but it merely hit the side of his neck and dropped on the floor.  The cat didn’t budge.  In fact, not only did it not let Franklyn go, it bit down harder, staring at Hannibal the whole time as if in defiance. 

“Ooh my God, it hurts!” Franklyn cried out.  “Help me, Dr. Lecter!” 

“Oh!” 

Hannibal turned at the sound of the new voice.  Will was standing in the doorway taking in the scene. 

“What are you doing here?” he said. 

“I heard the leopard.  Then the scream.”  Will’s eyes were huge, watching the cat with the man’s arm in its mouth. 

The leopard gave its head a jerk.  It was just a tiny movement, but it brought popping noises from Franklyn’s armpit. 

“Oh, Jesus, no no _NO!_ ” Franklyn screamed. 

Hannibal could not wait for Alana to come back with the tranquilizer rifle.  The big cat was going to destroy the man’s arm.  Hannibal sprang forward, wrapped his arms around Franklyn’s waist, and pulled backward hard, hoping to jerk the man’s arm free of the cat. 

The leopard responded by crunching down on Franklyn’s elbow and pulling harder into the cage.  Hannibal knew he could not hope to win a tug-of-war with the powerful beast. 

He let go of Franklyn, who was now slobbering incoherently.  Looking around in desperation, he spotted a fire extinguisher bolted to the wall.  Hannibal had talked Frederick Chilton into installing a dozen of them around the zoo just six months before.  He snatched the extinguisher free from the spring clips that held it and prayed that the CO2 cartridge still held its charge. 

When Hannibal raced back to the open side of the cage, the leopard was standing with all four feet braced, worrying the arm with savage shakes of its head.  The floor of the cage was spattered with blood.  Franklyn stood squeezed against the bars grunting with agony every time the cat jerked his arm. 

Hannibal moved along the bars until he had a clear shot at the cat, shoved the black nozzle of the extinguisher into the cage, pulled the pin and hit the trigger.  A cloud of white smoke billowed into the cage.  Under the hiss of the CO2 Hannibal could hear a thick tearing, cracking sound. 

Franklyn stumbled backwards, his face greasy white.  His left arm was not there anymore. 

Hannibal cut off the CO2 and threw it aside, running toward Franklyn.  Franklyn whirled in a strange pirouette, blood spurting like a crimson fountain from the ragged, empty shoulder socket. 

Alana came running back in the building with the tranquilizer gun.  When she saw Franklyn, she stopped and turned almost as pale as he was. 

When the cloud of gas dissipated in the cage they saw the black leopard, now coated in white, sitting in the center of the floor, shaking its great head back and forth.  The two ends of Franklyn’s right arm flopped at either side of the cat’s mouth as the bone and muscle were ground into a pulp by the cruel teeth. 

Alana turned around and noisily lost her lunch. 

Franklyn at last stopped his demented jig, and Hannibal caught him before he fell and lowered him to the ground.  Mercifully, he lost consciousness as blood continued to pump from the severed brachial artery. 

“Alana, get to a telephone and call for an ambulance,” Hannibal said urgently.  “Hurry!” he said as he took off his belt and wrapped it around Franklyn’s shoulder, using it as a tourniquet, desperately trying to slow the blood loss until the paramedics could arrive. 

“It’s too late,” Will said quietly. 

Hannibal’s head jerked up.  He had forgotten for a moment that he was there.  Will was standing several feet away.  A stream of blood from Franklyn’s torn shoulder had sprayed across his sneakers, staining them crimson. 

“What do you mean, too late?” Hannibal said. 

“You can’t do anything for him.  He’s dying.” 

Hannibal looked down at the slack gray face of the young man.  The flow of blood was already lessening as the body emptied itself of fluids.  Franklyn’s eyes were open, the pupils rolled back up into his head. 

“We’ve still got to do what we can,” Hannibal said. 

When he looked up again, Will was staring into the cage.  There, with the ragged remains of the man’s arm in its mouth, the cat was staring back at Will. 


	10. Chapter 10

Hannibal was prepared to wait at the hospital until there was definitive word on Franklyn’s condition, but the hospital staff made it clear that he would only be in the way, and the outcome of the surgery might not be known for many hours.  He took Alana home after they gave her a sedative at the hospital.  Will had slipped away after the violent events of the afternoon, and Hannibal had not had time to try to reach him. 

He sat later with a grim-faced Frederick Chilton in his office, listening to the sounds of the night creatures.  To Hannibal it seemed that every animal in the zoo was awake and restless tonight.  He could identify most of the cries and squawks and chitterings, but there were other voices that were strange to him.  Sitting stiff and frowning across the desk from him, Frederick Chilton paid no attention to the animals.  He had other problems. 

The telephone on the desk pealed, and both men jumped as though they had been zapped with the cattle prod.  Hannibal grabbed the phone.  “Yes?” 

He sat with his lips pressed together in a grim line as he heard from the other end of the line the report he had been dreading. 

“Thank you,” he said in monotone, and hung up the phone. 

“Well?” Chilton demanded. 

“That was the hospital,” Hannibal said in a distracted tone. 

“Of course it was the hospital.  Who else would be calling here tonight?  What did they say?” 

“Franklyn is dead.” 

Chilton groaned.  “Oh Lord, the city inspectors are going to be all over us now.  There might even be a grand jury convened.  And what about his uncle?  He’s on the zoo’s board!” 

“He never really had a chance,” Hannibal went on.  “He was in deep shock by the time they got him to the hospital, and with all the blood he lost, they just couldn’t save him.” 

“I’ll probably be called in by the mayor for an explanation,” Chilton said.  “What am I going to tell him?  And the budget.  What’s going to happen to our budget when the council convenes?” 

Hannibal stared across the desk at the chief administrator.  “Frederick, a man is dead.  Never mind the budget.” 

“Sure, that’s easy for you to say, you’ve got all those big-money offers from other places to fall back on.  If this zoo goes under I’m out of a job.  I’ll tell you one thing for sure, that cat is gone.” 

“What do you mean, gone?” 

“I mean there is one thing I am going to be able to tell the mayor, the grand jury or whoever, and that boy’s uncle, and that is that we will not tolerate a killer animal in the New Orleans Zoo.” 

“It wasn’t the leopard’s fault.” 

“Don’t start your Humane Society pitch with me, Hannibal.  That leopard killed a man.” 

“Franklyn was drunk and he was tormenting him with an electric prod.” 

“What’s that got to do with it?” 

“A lot, I’d say.  You can’t expect an animal to just take that kind of mistreatment without retaliating.” 

“There’s no point in discussing this any further,” Chilton said.  “The cat is gone.” 

“Explain that.” 

“Back when you told me what an unusual animal it was, the size and all, I shopped it around a little.  I got one really good offer from Cromartie Labs in Houston.  Today I accepted it.” 

Hannibal stiffened in his seat.  “Cromartie Labs?   Those people are butchers.  Worse!  You know what they’ll do?  They’ll pull that leopard apart, piece by piece, gene by gene, while he’s still alive and feeling.  I won’t allow any of my animals to be turned over to those butchers.” 

“It’s out of your hands, Hannibal.  The deal has already been made.  Not only will it get this killer off our hands, we stand to make a few bucks on the deal.” 

“Make a few bucks?  Frederick, have you no heart at all?” 

“Yes, I have,” the administrator said quietly.  “You might think back and remember that I suggested in the beginning that painless euthanasia might be the best way to go.” 

“I couldn’t have killed a perfectly healthy animal without a reason!” 

“Well, now there’s a reason.” 

Frederick stood up and adjusted his cuffs.  “I’ll have to start putting together some kind of release for the media.  Is there anything you want me to say?” 

Hannibal sagged back into his chair.  “No.” 

“Good night, then,” Chilton said.  “Keep your fingers crossed that we don’t come out of this too badly.” 

Once the administrator was gone, Hannibal sat for a long time staring down at his desk.  The night voices spoke to him. 

Cromartie Labs.  Those sadists should have been put out of business long ago.  Hannibal ground his teeth, visualizing the agony the leopard would be put through before death finally came.  

“I can’t let it happen,” he said to the empty office. 

Hannibal left the room, walked through the deserted building and down the stairs to the basement.  He went to the gun cabinet and opened it with his key.  From the small selection of rifles and handguns inside, he picked a reliable Winchester bolt-action model.  He loaded it with steel-jacketed 300 Magnum cartridges.  He grabbed a flashlight and climbed the stairs from the basement, and went out of the building. 

The loaded rifle weighed like a cannon when Hannibal carried it out into the night and down the slope toward the trees.  The sounds of the animals were all around him.  Never in his life had he felt so alone. 

He thought then about Will.  Will had developed some sort of affection for the leopard and would want to know what happened.  How would he react when he told him what he did?  Would he leave the zoo and never come back? 

With a heavy heart he forged ahead with the flashlight beam picking out the trail ahead of him, making his way through the grove of trees toward the quarantine building.  Everything looked so calm in the moonlight, a sharp contrast to the wild scene of a few hours before. 

He snapped off the flashlight as he approached the building.  He stopped before entering, and as quietly as he could, worked the bolt, levering a cartridge up into the chamber.  It made a loud clacking sound, making him cringe. 

He entered the building and walked softly toward the cage, hoping the leopard was sleeping so he wouldn’t have to look into its eyes when he pulled the trigger.  Franklyn’s blood had dried and stained the tile floor brown.  He shook his head feeling angry.  What a waste. 

 _Sorry, big fella,_ Hannibal thought, _but I promise you this is better than the alternative.  I will not let those butchers in Houston rip you apart._

He brought the rifle up to his shoulder and looked down the barrel while sweeping the barrel from side to side looking for the leopard.  He just wanted to do this quickly. 

But the leopard was not inside. 

Incredulous, Hannibal lowered the gun and walked closer to the bars.   He turned the flashlight on so he could see into the dark corners of the cage.  The steel door was still down, trapping the leopard inside, so he had to be here.    He played the light over every inch of the cage interior—the floor, the shelf, all four corners. 

The leopard was not inside. 

Hannibal spun around quickly, raising the rifle back to his shoulder, having felt a sudden chill between his shoulder blades, as if unseen eyes were watching him.  He swept the large room looking for the cat.  But there was no leopard. 

Moving cautiously, the rifle held ready for use, he advanced to the side door of the cage.  With the flashlight clamped awkwardly under one arm, he fumbled for the key that would open the cage door.  He found it and started to insert it into the lock, but at the slight pressure the door swung inward. 

The cage was unlocked. 

Hannibal stood holding the key while his mind raced.  How could such a thing have happened?  After the tragedy here earlier, he had personally tested the cage to be sure it was sound.  There was no doubt that the door was locked then.  But it sure was open now. 

Franklyn had had a key to the cage and he hadn’t turned his keys in yet.  What had happened to Franklyn’s keys? 

He stepped into the cage, holding the rifle before him, still not wanting to believe that the leopard was gone.  But the cage was empty.  Abruptly he turned away.  There was much to do now.  Somewhere loose in the night was a deadly animal.  It was no longer in Hannibal’s hands.  The police would have to be notified and they would want his help with the search.  He would need Alana along to help him.  He hoped she was up for it.  This was going to be a very long night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, guess who’s back? That’s right, Mattie finally makes it home.


	11. Chapter 11

Will sat on the side of his bed at the Brown house and stared down at his shoes, which were covered in that man’s blood.  He took them off and threw them across the room, furious.  _That stupid man!  Why did he have to torment the leopard into doing that?  What would happen to the leopard now?  Who was going to protect him?_

He got up and started pacing in agitation until the doors to the balcony suddenly crashed open and Will jumped back, stifling a cry and backing away as a figure stepped into the room. 

“Matt!” Will said in relief as he recognized his brother.   “Oh, Mattie, I’m so glad you’re home,” he said, going to his brother and putting his arms around him, holding him tight, grateful for the feeling of security.  “I’ve had the worse day,” he said, breathing in his brother’s scent looking for comfort, but found it tinged with an acrid aroma. 

His brother stood stiff, and Will released him and stepped back, looking at him framed by the black night outside the window.  He was pale, with dark stubble on his face.  His eyes had a wild, unnatural glitter. 

“What’s wrong Mattie?  And where have you been?  I’ve been worried about you.” 

“I was … in prison,” he said haltingly. 

“Prison?  I don’t understand.” 

“The convicts.  They need spiritual help as much as those of us on the outside.  Perhaps more.  I spend time with them whenever I can.” 

“You left so suddenly without a word.” 

“I had no choice.  There was a boy who was dying.  He asked for me.  I’m sorry I had no time to say goodbye.” 

“It’s all right,” Will said, wrapping his arms around his brother again and resting his head on his shoulder.  “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.” 

From out in the night came the distant braying of a police siren.  Matt eased out of Will’s embrace and turned to close the balcony doors. 

Will stepped back and looked at him more closely.  “What is it, Matt?  You seem so strange.” 

“Do I?”  His voice was taut.  Different-sounding.  He crossed the room, turned the key in the bedroom door, and pocketed it. 

“What are you doing?” Will said, feeling a trickle of unease. 

Matt looked at Will with a smile he had never seen before.  “When you came here, I didn’t know if you were ready.  I didn’t want to do anything too soon, so I was prepared to wait.  But now, I’ve seen how you are with him, and I know you are ready.” 

“How I am with who?  What are you talking about?” 

“With that alpha at the zoo, of course,” Matt spat out. 

“Hannibal?  You’re not making any sense, Matt,” Will said, confused. 

“Then let me spell it out for you, little brother.  You want to fuck him, don’t you?” 

The word hit Will like a slap across the face.  He recoiled. 

“I didn't think you were ready, but you are.  I knew it when I saw you with him.  You want to fuck him.  You dream about fucking him.  Your whole body burns.  It burns all along your nerves, in your mouth, your stomach.  You go wet between your legs.”

“Stop it, Matt!”

“Don’t bother to deny it.  I could smell it on you.” 

He started toward Will.  Will backed up, shrinking away, frightened.  “Stay away from me!  Don’t touch me!” 

“But don’t you see, I’m the only one who _can_ touch you.  And you’re the only one who can touch me.  We’re safe together because we’re alike.” 

“I’m nothing like you!” 

“Oh, yes, you are.  We are the same, little brother.  You know we are.  You’ve always know it.  Don’t you remember when we were children, how you and I heard voices and knew things that other people couldn’t possibly know?  You can't escape the nightmare without me.  And I can't escape without you.  I've waited a long time for you, Will, looked for you for so long.” 

Will’s back hit the wall and he had nowhere to go.  Matt pounced, suddenly on him, his mouth buried in the side of his neck, scenting, sucking, tasting, while his hands fumbled the front of Will’s pants, undoing the button, unzipping them, while Will struggled to push him off. 

“What are you doing!  Are you crazy!  Get off me!” Will said, struggling harder. 

“I need you,” Matt said in a pleading voice, sounding desperate.  “Please, Will, I need you!”

“But you're my brother—this is wrong!  You need help, Mattie!” 

“That’s not what I need,” Matt said, grabbing his upper arms.  “I need the same thing you do.  And tonight we are going to nourish each other.” 

He pulled Will away from the wall and started pushing him toward the bed while Will continued to struggle.  As the back of Will’s thighs hit the bed, Matt spun him around and pushed him onto the mattress face down.  He grabbed his wrists and pinned both behind the small of his back with one hand while pulling at his pants and boxers with the other. 

“Matt, please don’t do this,” he cried.  “Don’t hurt me.” 

“Don’t you understand?  I have to.  You and I are the same blood, Will.  We need each other.  We need each other’s bodies.  We’re safe with each other because we’re the same.” 

Will felt the chill of the night air hit his bare buttocks as Matt managed to work his pants and boxers down past his knees.  Matt’s fingers probed and pinched at the tender flesh. 

“You’ve never done it before, have you?” he said, breathing hard. 

“No … never!  Please, Mattie, I don’t want to do this.” 

“You don’t know how lucky you are that I will be your first.  One of your own kind.  When it’s over, you’ll understand and you’ll thank me.  You’ll see.” 

Matt’s hand slipped down the crease of his rump and insinuated itself up tight between his legs.  In spite of his revulsion, Will felt himself get wet down there. 

“You see?” Matt said huskily, close to his ear.  “You do want me.  You need this as much as I do.” 

Matt wedged his knees between Will’s thighs and forced them apart.  Will felt Matt move in between his spread thighs, felt his still clothed penis rub against his bare flesh. 

With all the strength he could summon, Will twisted and writhed from side to side. 

“Hold still,” Matt growled. 

Will thrashed around even harder, then screamed suddenly as Matt’s surprisingly sharp teeth sank into the skin on the soft fleshy joint between neck and shoulder.  Will snapped his head backwards and felt the back of his skull crack against his brother’s face.  Matt grunted and lost his grip on him, staggering back a step. 

Will sprang off the bed, quickly hiking up his pants, and whirled to face this madman who was his brother.  Matt shook himself and started toward him, and Will could swear his brother’s eyes were glowing. 

Instinctively Will slashed out at his face with clawed fingers.  His nails dug in and raked red furrows down the flesh of his cheek. 

Matt reached up and touched the deep scratches, but instead of being angry, he smiled. 

“You see?” he said, and started toward him again. 

Will spun away and ran for the balcony doors.  He threw the doors open and stumbled out onto the balcony.  Breathing raggedly, Matt came after him. 

Will edged sideways along the balcony with his back against the iron railing, his eyes never leaving Matt as he came after him.  Matt lunged, reaching for him.  Will danced away, avoiding his grasp, but then he came to the end of the balcony and had nowhere to go.  Feeling desperate, he grabbed the railing and threw himself over the side.  He decided he would rather risk getting badly hurt than suffer getting raped by his own flesh and blood. 

Falling. 

Like the terrifying childhood dream where the ground rushes up at incredible speed.  The wind roared in Will’s ears as he waited for the impact that would crack his bones and smash his internal organs. 

But the impact never came.  Somehow his body twisted in midair so that he landed on the lawn on all fours, cushioning the shock.  He bounced immediately to his feet as he heard Matt hit the ground close behind him. 

He was running then, down the path to the tall iron gate, through the gate, and out onto the street.  Running, running with the sound of Matt’s footsteps behind him, pounding ever closer. 

He was suddenly blinded by headlights directly in his path and he ran toward them in a panic, his only thought being to escape the madman that was his brother.  The screech of tires finally stopped him.  A pair of headlights dipped and bounced almost touching him as the driver brought the car to a tortured stop.  Will spun around then looking for his brother, but the only thing the headlights illuminated was the empty road ahead

A door slammed.  There was a new set of footsteps and Will was suddenly held in a strong pair of alpha arms.  Not Matt’s scent, but a familiar scent, and they were holding him protectively.  He was shaking as he pressed his face into the rough material of the alpha’s jacket, but he felt safe now. 

“Will,” Hannibal said, holding the omega close against him.  “Will, what happened?” 

 _That’s a very good question,_  Will thought, still shaking.   _What the hell did just happen?  And what was that craziness Matt was going on about? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, something strange is discovered at the Brown house.


	12. Chapter 12

It was several minutes before Will could catch his breath and talk coherently.  Hannibal’s arms around him were strong and protective.  Will did not want him to take them away. 

“It’s all right,” Hannibal said soothingly, his lips close to his ear.  “Just take your time.  There’s nothing to be afraid of now.” 

Standing back behind Hannibal in the glow of the headlights, Will could see Alana Bloom.  The woman was watching him carefully, and she did not look happy. 

“It was my brother, Matt,” Will said when he regained some of his control.  “I don’t know what came over him but he seemed to go crazy.  He … he attacked me,” he said, deciding he didn’t want to get more specific than that.  “I got out of the house and ran, but he chased me.  He kept getting closer.  And then suddenly you were there.” 

Hannibal looked around in the darkness.  “There’s no sign of him now.” 

A police car screeched to a stop in the street next to them.  Reluctantly Will moved out of Hannibal’s arms as he turned to greet Sergeant Crawford. 

“Is he all right?” the big man asked. 

“Yes,” Hannibal said.  “Just frightened.  His brother seems to have had an attack of some kind.  What about the leopard?” 

“The dogs tracked it here, to the Brown house.  When the car passed the house they just started going crazy.  I’d like your permission to go in, Mr. Graham.” 

“The leopard?  Here?  Y—yes, of course,” Will said, feeling confused.  “But how did the leopard escape?” he asked Hannibal. 

“We’re not certain,” he said.      

Crawford headed up the street.  “Let’s go in,” he called to the waiting policemen.  “Be careful, and keep a tight hold on the dogs.” 

Hannibal looked off toward the house, now bathed in spotlights from the police cars.  “Do you feel well enough to go back there?” he asked Will. 

“Maybe he ought to wait in the truck,” Alana said. 

“No, I’m all right now,” Will said quickly.  “I have to know what they find.” 

They started back toward the house.  Hannibal took Will’s arm protectively.  Alana followed a few paces behind, saying nothing. 

 

The lights were all blazing when they entered the house.  Femolly was in the dining room, sitting in a straight-back chair while an officer questioned her.  The dogs could be heard barking urgently in the kitchen. 

“I told you, I was asleep the whole time,” Femolly told the detective. 

“You didn’t hear anything?” 

“Nothin’, till you people come banging on the door with your dogs barking and all.”  The woman looked up when Will came into the room.  There was a strange combination of sorrow and relief in her expression. 

Sergeant Crawford entered through the swinging door leading from the kitchen.  He took Hannibal discreetly aside.  “I need you and Ms. Bloom to come with me for a minute.  There’s something I want you to see.” 

Hannibal glanced over at Will.

“I’ll have a man stay with him,” Crawford said. 

Hannibal signaled to Alana, and they followed the detective through the kitchen to a door that was partly hidden behind a big refrigerator.  A heavy padlock dangled from a hasp.  The screws that held the hasp to the door frame had been pried out of the wood. 

Hannibal looked questioningly at Crawford. 

“We had Mr. Graham’s permission,” said the sergeant. 

With Crawford in the lead they picked their way down a crumbling flight of stone steps into the basement.  The air was cold and damp.  Tomblike.  They had to duck their heads to avoid a maze of corroded pipes overhead as they crossed the damp, uneven floor.  Ahead of them a uniformed policeman stood in a pool of yellow light from a dangling overhead bulb.  The policeman was holding a handkerchief to his nose. 

As they picked their way across the basement, Hannibal recognized the smell.  Dead flesh.  As they came closer to the policeman they could make out a caged-off corner of the basement.  Steel bars extended from the heavy ceiling beams to the concrete floor. 

“I think we’ve found where your leopard came from,” Sergeant Crawford said. 

Hannibal and Alana went closer and looked through the bars into the cage.  It was filthy inside.  Animal feces, bones, and bits of withered flesh littered the floor.  A stout chain was bolted to one wall.  The other end was attached to a thick metal collar. 

“What a terrible way to keep an animal,” Alana said. 

Hannibal knelt down and examined the collar.  “This is rusted shut,” he said.  “It hasn’t been used in a long time.” 

“Maybe the collar hasn’t,” said Crawford, “but something sure as hell has been using this cage.” 

Alana reached in through the bars to poke at a large yellowed bone.  “At least the animal was fed.” 

“I wouldn’t touch that, Miss Bloom.  It’s human remains,” Crawford said. 

Alana jerked her hand out.  Hannibal had recognized the human femur bone as soon as he saw it. 

“There are human skulls in the far corner,” Crawford continued.  “From the looks of it, there are parts of three, maybe four bodies in there.  Wouldn’t surprise me if we found others buried on the grounds.” 

“What the devil was going on here?” Hannibal asked. 

“Off the record, it looks like this Matthew Brown has been killing people and feeding them to the cat.  Over the years there have been a few we’ve found—prostitutes, runaways, and the like.  Half eaten.  Mutilated, especially in the genital area.” 

Alana cleared her throat. 

“Sorry, Miss Bloom.” 

Alana waved away the apology.  “What would make a man do a thing like that?” she said. 

“Who knows?  We checked Brown’s background and he’s been in and out of psycho wards since he was a kid.  He’s also some kind of a religious nut.” 

“But the leopard,” Alana said, “where would he get that?  How did he learn how to handle it?” 

“He was raised around them.  His parents were circus people.  Lion trainers.  They weren’t exactly your apple-pie mom and dad, either.  He caught her in bed with another man one day, shot her dead, then blew his brains out.” 

“What about the brother?” Alana asked.  “Is he involved in this?” 

“How could he be?” Hannibal said immediately.  “Will hadn’t seen his brother in years until a few days ago.  And tonight we found him running scared down the street after he was attacked by him.” 

“I’ll want to hear more about that,” Crawford said.  “At the moment we have no reason to suspect him.  It seems likely that Brown was planning to kill him too.  If he’s a friend of yours, you ought to suggest that he find another place to stay until his brother is caught.” 

“I’ll take care of that,” Hannibal said. 

Alana shot him a look, which he ignored. 

“Good.  That leaves us with a couple of problems.  One, we’ve got a leopard loose out there somewhere, and he likes human flesh.” 

“You mean a leopard that was _trained_ to eat human flesh,” Hannibal corrected. 

“Doesn’t make a whole lot of difference, the way I see it.  The second problem we have is the maniac who trained the cat is out there loose as well.  Let’s go upstairs. 

 

Femolly, wearing her coat, stood in the doorway, her hands handcuffed behind her back.  A policeman standing beside her had his hand lightly but firmly on her arm. 

Will ran to Sergeant Crawford when he came into the room with Hannibal and Alana. 

“Do you have to arrest Femolly?  She hasn’t done anything.” 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Graham,” the sergeant said, “but at the very least we have to hold her as a material witness.  There’s no way she didn’t have some knowledge of what was going on here.” 

Will walked over to the proud black woman and touched her arm.  “Femolly, is there anything I can do?” 

“Don’t you worry none about me, child.  You just take care of yourself.  You got lots bigger things to be worrying about.” 

Crawford gave a signal, and the policeman led Femolly out of the house.  To Hannibal he said, “You were going to arrange a place for Mr. Graham to stay?” 

“I have an extra room at my house.  He can stay there.”  He turned to Will.  “If that’s all right with you.” 

“Hannibal!” Alana’s voice was sharp.

He turned to her impatiently.  “What is it?” 

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” 

“He certainly can’t stay here, and he doesn’t know anyone else in New Orleans.” 

“Please, I don’t want to be any trouble,” Will said. 

“No trouble,” Hannibal assured him.  “You’re welcome to stay at my place until we can work something else out. Until they find your brother, at any rate.”  He turned to look at Alana.  “Unless you have a better idea.” 

“Put him wherever you want to,” she snapped. 

Hannibal regarded her for a moment, then turned to Will.  “Why don’t you pack a few things.  I’ll wait down here for you.  Alana will accompany you so you’re not alone.  Won’t you, Alana?” 

“Sure, why not,” Alana said, throwing her hands up, clearly not happy about the turn of events.  “Lead the way.” 

Hannibal watched the two go up the stairs.  Will looked back at him over his shoulder.  A fleeting smile touched the corners of his mouth.  At that moment Hannibal knew he was falling in love with him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter Will has a strange dream and sleepwalks.


	13. Chapter 13

Will stood in the center of Hannibal’s living room and looked around.  “It’s really nice.” 

“It used to be a carriage house,” Hannibal told him.  “The rooms upstairs were for the servants.  I find myself drawn to older, more traditional buildings,” he said, rubbing the carved wood molding around the entryway leading to the dining room.” 

“Me, too.  They certainly don’t make buildings like this anymore.  Mores the pity,” Will said.  “Hannibal?” 

“Yes?” 

“Alana made it pretty clear she wasn’t happy about you bringing me here.  Are you and she …?” 

“No, nothing like that,” he said quickly.  “We’re friends and colleagues, that’s all.” 

“I get the feeling Alana thinks there’s something more.” 

“Maybe she just thought I was bringing you here under my roof so that I could get you alone and have my way with you,” he said deflecting, but smiling to show he was kidding. 

“Were you?”  Will’s eyes remained serious. 

Hannibal’s smile faded.  “That was not my intent.  If you want to know if I’m attracted to you, the answer is yes.  But I don’t take partners to bed under false pretenses.” 

“I’m glad to hear that.  I’m a virgin, you know,” Will said, moving closer.    

Hannibal looked uncomfortable.  “No, I didn’t.” 

“Does it make any difference in the way you feel about me?” 

“Why should it?” 

“I don’t know.  These days if you’re still at virgin at twenty, people think there’s something wrong with you.” 

Hannibal put his arms around him.  He held him tenderly for a moment, then kissed him on the forehead.  “As far as I’ve been able to tell, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you.  If anything, I’m even more attracted to you now.” 

Will smiled up at him.  “I think I needed to hear that.” 

Hannibal let him go and took a step back.  “What are we even talking about?  You were attacked tonight and there’s a sick man and a dangerous cat loose in the streets.  This is no time to talk romance.  Come, I’ll show you to your room.”  He picked up Will’s bag and started up the stairs. 

“Hannibal?” 

Hannibal turned back and looked down at him. 

“I don’t expect to still be a virgin at twenty-one.” 

Hannibal swallowed thickly.  The air seemed to sizzle between them.  Then Hannibal shook his head, breaking the spell, and said, “Come on upstairs.  I need to get a couple of hours’ sleep.  I promised Sergeant Crawford I’d help with the search for the leopard first thing in the morning.” 

Will started to follow but then stopped before a glassed-in bookcase at the foot of the stairs.  There was a heavy-caliber rifle leaning against it in the small space between the staircase and the bookcase.    

“You’re not a hunter?” he said. 

Hannibal turned on the stairway.  “The rifle?  I brought that home from the zoo earlier today.  I just stuck there to get it out of the way until I take it back.” 

“I’m glad,” Will said.  “I don’t like people who kill for sport.” 

“Neither do I,” Hannibal said. 

For a moment their eyes held, then Hannibal continued up the stairs.  Will followed him to a comfortable-looking room, simply furnished, with a large window that looked out on trees in the back yard.  Hannibal set Will’s bag down on the foot of the bed. 

“If you need anything, my room’s right next door,” Hannibal said.  Will shuddered.  His brother had said those exact same words to him just a few nights ago, his first day here.  How had everything gone so terribly wrong? 

Hannibal saw the change in his expression.  “Don’t worry, Will, they’ll find Matthew.” 

Will’s eyes were clouded.  “I just can’t believe he did all those things the police are saying he did.  Not my brother.” 

_We’re safe together because we’re alike._   What had Matt meant by that? Will thought, frowning.    

“He’s not responsible,” Hannibal said gently, pulling Will from his thoughts.  “He needs help.  When they find him, he’ll get the help he needs.”  He stood in the doorway for a moment longer but saw that Will was off somewhere in his own thoughts. 

“Good night,” he said.  “I’ll probably be gone by the time you get up.  Just make yourself at home.  There’s plenty of food in the refrigerator.” 

When he was alone, Will began to undress.  He pulled off his shirt and stood before the mirror that hung over the bureau.  He turned sideways and tilted his head and he could see the teeth marks where Matt had bitten into the fleshy joint between his neck and shoulder.  He touched the wound and found the sensation strangely pleasurable.  Quickly he stripped down to his boxers, turned out the light, and got into bed. 

Sleep did not come easily.  The unfamiliar bed, the strange sounds inside and outside the house, and the terrible events of the day combined to keep Will awake long past midnight. 

When at last he did sleep, his dreams were worse than his waking fears.  He was walking alone through the jungle in a strange land.  It seemed to be night, yet Will’s vision in the dream was as keen as at midday. 

Some force drew him on through the jungle.  Something there was calling his name.  As he moving effortlessly over the dream landscape, he could make out a standing figure at the edge of the jungle.  A man.  The man beckoned him on.  Will felt a mixture of repulsion and desire.  He floated toward the beckoning figure, unable to resist. 

When he was almost close enough to make out his features, the dark figure moved back deeper into the jungle.  Will had no choice but to follow. 

The thick, moist foliage closed in around him.  Then up ahead the forest thinned and jungle turned to desert.  A large tree stood alone in the barren landscape.  The branches spread out wide, like an umbrella, but the branches were bare of any leaves.  The silent figure stood waiting for him at the base of the tree.  It was Matt. 

He was naked.  His tall, sinewy body seemed to glow with a soft inner light.  Will saw his nakedness in every detail.  Desire burned within him even as a voice in his head screamed _No!  This is wrong!_  

Will glided toward him.  His own body yearned to join with Matt’s.  Matt held out his arms to him and Will moved closer.  He looked up and there were black leopards lounging on the thickest branches of the tree.  They looked down at him as if in welcoming. 

 

[](http://imgbox.com/HT9crRFh)

 

Then Will looked back at his brother.  His face was that of a cat. 

Will gasped.  The sudden rush of air into his lungs awakened him.  He looked about wildly for a moment, disoriented.  He was not in his bed.  He was standing in a strange room covered in sweat.  On a bed before him, laying on his side, his body only partially covered by a sheet, lay Hannibal Lecter. 

Shocked, Will started to back away, but something held him where he stood.  The hot desire he had known in the dream returned.  Looking down at the sleeping alpha, he felt himself getting wet and touched himself through his boxers. 

Hannibal stirred in his sleep, making a small moaning sound and rolled over onto his back.  Will’s breath caught when the sheet slid down well below his navel, leaving no doubt that the alpha slept in the nude.  Will devoured his body with his eyes.  The thick hair on Hannibal’s chest was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and his eyes hungrily followed the trail of hair down past his flat stomach as it tapered and disappeared under the sheet.  He licked his lips as he imagined stroking that furred chest, rubbing his own body against it, touching the bare flesh, tasting him. 

He had no feeling for the passage of time as he stood there, and his entire body was tingling strangely when the gray streaks of dawn at the window finally brought him back to the moment.  Silently he slipped out of Hannibal’s room and returned to his own.  He got into bed and touched himself while visions of Hannibal’s body brought him to a shuddering climax.  He then fell into a dreamless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter Will goes looking for answers.


	14. Chapter 14

Will awoke to a lovely, sun-bright day.  The dreams of the night before, along with the embarrassing sleep-walking episode, were washed away by the fresh breeze that stirred the curtains and cooled his room. 

Hannibal was already gone by the time he woke up, so he took an extra long shower, then rubbed his skin pink with one of a stack of fluffy towels he found in the bathroom.  He got dressed, then put his few things away in drawers. 

After that, feeling a little naughty, he prowled the house looking at Hannibal’s things, touching them.  The house was completely masculine, but in no way cold.  The colors were earth tones, the furniture comfortable.  The place was surprisingly clean, considering he was a bachelor.  When he went into Hannibal’s bedroom, he couldn’t help staring at the bed and remembering standing where he was standing right now staring down at the man.  The bed was now neatly made, but Will crawled onto it and buried his face into the quilt, smelling Hannibal’s heady alpha scent, instantly feeling heat flooding his body.  He hoped Hannibal would return before too long.  He was anxious to hear his voice, see his smile. 

Smoothing the bed covers, he went downstairs to the living room.  There were plants growing in sturdy pots around the room.  That was unusual for an alpha living alone, but these were big, masculine plants, not the dainty little things that some people talked to like babies.  One wall was given over to framed photographs.  Will crossed the room for a closer look. 

Most of the pictures were of animals, taken in their natural habitat.  There were shots of Hannibal in safari jacket and boots, looking very handsome.  Often he was standing with native tribesmen.  Africa?  South America?  Will couldn’t be sure. 

There were pictures of Hannibal and Alana Bloom together as well.  Apparently she had accompanied him on at least one of the expeditions.  In one photo they had their arms around each other and smiled happily at the camera.  Just good friends, huh?  Will felt a pang of jealousy but knew he shouldn’t.  Surely he didn’t think Hannibal had never been with anyone else.  Why should it bother him to see Hannibal in such a familiar pose with his co-worker?  After all, Will was the one living in his house right now, not Alana. 

Besides, Will had concerns right now that were more immediate than worrying about Alana Bloom.  There were questions that he needed answers to, things Matt had said that needed explaining.  Were they just the ravings of someone unbalanced, or was it something more?  There was only one person he knew of of who might have the answers he needed, and fortunately he knew right where to find her. 

 

In the New Orleans City Jail, Will sat in a hard wooden chair and faced Femolly through a mesh of heavy gauge steel wire. 

“Your brother is dead?” Femolly asked. 

“No!” Will said, startled at the question, wondering why Femolly would think that.  Feeling unsettled he said, “No, they’re still searching for him.  Femolly, I need to ask you about something.  Matt said some strange things, some confusing things to me, and I was hoping you would be able to shed some light on them.” 

“What did he say?” 

“He said that he and I have to be together because we’re the same.  What did he mean?” 

“Don't ask what you already know.”

“But I don't know.  Is my brother crazy?  Is that why he attacked me?” 

“You must not think of your brother as a bad man.  He did not choose to be what he is.” 

“But what is he?  What am I?  Please, Femolly, I can’t live with this uncertainty.  I feel like I can’t move forward until I know the truth.” 

Femolly glanced over at the door.  A jail matron stood there with her arms folded, bored, paying no attention to the conversation. 

“I will tell you the story your great-great grandfather told to your grandfather, who told it to your father.  A long, long time ago your ancestors were part of a tribe that lived in the jungles of South America.  They were a race of people who worshiped the old gods—gods who took the form of big cats.  Whenever the tribe suffered a draught or locust or some other misfortune, they attributed it to the gods being angry with them and they would select their finest child as a sacrifice to appease the gods.”

“They would sacrifice a child?” Will said, distressed at the thought. 

“It had to be a child because children are pure and untainted.  They would leave him or her tied to a sacred tree out past the edge of the jungle to be devoured.”  

Will felt a shiver of foreboding go down his spine as he remembered the tree in his dream. 

“One season a great drought struck the village and their water hole dried up and their crops and animals were dying, so the tribal elders chose an omega boy by the name of Guillermo to sacrifice.  Guillermo is said to have been an extremely beautiful omega with dark curly hair and eyes that sometimes took on the color of a stormy sky, and sometimes took on the color of the jungle.  He was also a very kind and intelligent child.  He was 13-years-old at the time, still a child but right on the cusp of becoming an adult.  Many of the young alphas in the tribe were already showing Guillermo favor, including the chief’s son, and it was Guillermo’s parents’ hope that he would be chosen to be the mate of the future chief.  But it was not meant to be.  Guillermo was taken to the sacred tree by the tribal elders where he was stripped down and tied to it.  Then the elders went back into the jungle to wait out the long night so they could collect his bones in the morning to take back to the boy’s parents where they would be buried and the boy honored for his sacrifice. 

“But something happened while the boy was tied to the tree.  All this adrenaline was pumping through his young body, all these emotions; plus the wind was ghosting over his naked body, teasing his privates, and Guillermo became aroused, triggering his first heat.  The boy was in quite a state by the time one of the dark gods arrived in the form of a giant black leopard. 

“Guillermo saw the leopard arrive, but he was too consumed by his heat to be frightened.  His young body burned and he was desperate to be filled.  He mewled at the leopard, begging to be touched.     

“The leopard, sensing no fear in the boy, smelled his enticing scent.  It walked up to Guillermo and scented the source of that enticing aroma and tasted him with his raspy tongue, and Guillermo became even more stimulated, releasing more pheromones, and the cat was not immune.  He became aroused as well, and he jumped up on the tree with his paws on either side of Guillermo’s head.  Guillermo automatically turned his head to the side and displayed his neck like a good little omega, and the cat bit down on the joint between his neck and shoulder, as cats do to hold their mate in place when they breed.” 

Will nervously brought his hand up, touching the area through his shirt where Matt had bitten him. 

“The cat found the boy’s entrance and pushed in, breaching Guillermo for the first time,” Femolly continued.  “Guillermo rejoiced at being filled and was as enthusiastic in the mating as the cat was.  When the cat finished he cleaned Guillermo up, curled into a ball and fell asleep in front of the boy, guarding him throughout the night.  When dawn started to peak over the horizon, the cat got up, ears pricked to the south, gave Guillermo one final look and then vanished into the foliage.  The elders arrived a few minutes later and were astounded, not to mention a little disappointed, to see Guillermo still alive.  They thought at first that their sacrifice had not been pleasing to the gods and had been rejected…that is until they saw the bite mark on the boy’s neck and shoulder and smelled the scent of sex clinging to his skin. 

"This had never happened before and they didn’t know what to make of it. 

"But the following day, it rained, so they knew that the gods were pleased.  Their water hole filled up, their crops and livestock flourished, and the tribe rejoined. 

"Nine months later, Guillermo gave birth to twins, an omega and an alpha.  Although they were born covered in hair, the hair fell out after a few weeks and they looked like normal children.  But they were not normal children.  They could change into leopards, and due to the nature of their conception, that change was triggered by intense sexual desire.  When the alpha child came of age, he fell in love and married, but then changed and killed his mate on their wedding night.  Later on something similar happened to the omega, and the tribe banished the pair of them.  They stayed together and traveled up into North America, pretending to be a married couple, terrified to be with anyone else.  They had children together, and their children ended up settling in what is now New Orleans.” 

“So, what are you telling me?  That Matt and I are descendants of Guillermo and can turn into leopards?” Will said in disbelief.  “That’s crazy!” 

“Your grandparents could, your father and mother could, your brother can, and I’m guessing you can, although I take it you haven’t done so yet.  You’re only safe with your own kind.  That’s what Matt has found out the hard way.  And that’s why your parents and your grandparents were siblings, because they realized they were only safe with each other.  Yours is an incestuous race out of necessity, Will, not by choice.  And the fact that the gene pool has remained pure, undiluted with outside blood, has kept the leopard gene dominant in your line.” 

Will stared at Femolly in shock.  “My parents were brother and sister?”

“As were your grandparents,” Femolly confirmed.  “And I’m sure that Matt thought that you and he would follow suit once you realized, as he has, that you cannot be with anyone else because of what you are.” 

Will shook his head in denial. _This can’t be true, it can’t be!_   He remembered the picture Matt had given him of his parents and how much they looked like him and Matt, which raised another question.  “Femolly, why did my father kill my mother and then kill himself?” 

Femolly looked down at her folded hands.  “Your mother was a beautiful woman, a kind woman, and a good wife and mother, but I believe there were times when she was troubled by what she was.  One day when your father was busy working with the circus cats and you children were out playing, she seduced the circus strong man, Samson.  Your father came back to the trailer earlier than expected and found them together.  Samson fled the trailer immediately, but your father only had eyes for your mother.  ‘Why?’ he asked her.  ‘Why would you do this?’ 

“ ‘I never wanted to hurt you,’ she said.  ‘I just wanted to be like other people, if only for a little while.  Samson was close, and he was easy, so I took him.’

“ ‘It was a mistake,’ your father told her.  ‘You can never be like other people.  Neither can I.  You know that.  You know what we are.  We must always stay with our own kind.  You and I and the children.’ 

“ ‘It will never happen again,’ ” she said. 

“ ‘It must never happen again.  Look at you.’, he said, whipping the sheet off the bed, exposing your mother’s body, which was just starting to change.  ‘If Samson had stayed a few minutes longer he would have seen you change.  You would have most likely killed him, exposing us, putting us all at risk.  You know that cannot be allowed to happen.’ ” 

“When your father worked with the cats he always wore a gun.  It was circus policy as a precaution in case one of the cats attacked him, not that they ever would.  He unsnapped the holster on his hip, told your mother he loved her, and pulled the trigger.” 

Will had tears trailing down his face now.  “But why would he then kill himself and leave Mattie and me orphaned?”

Femolly hesitated. 

“Please, Femolly, I need the whole truth.  I need to know everything.” 

Femolly sighed.  “You and Matt had entered the trailer right after Samson left, unnoticed by either of your parents.  When your father pulled the trigger on your mother, one of you cried out, and when your father turned around, there the two of you were, wide-eyed and terrified.  Matt was ten at the time and he remembered it all clearly.  He remembers your father saying, ‘I’m sorry, my darlings.  I love you both very much, but you should never have been born.  I will make it as painless as possible for you.  Believe me, this will save you from much worse pain later in your lives.’  Your father then raised the gun and pointed it at Matt’s head, but then you made a little sound of distress and your father looked at you and hesitated.  During that hesitation Matt picked you up and literally dove out the trailer door, like the good little acrobat he was training to be.  He hid the two of you under one of the other trailers, and heard a shot shortly thereafter.  The circus folk found your father lying next to your mother on the bed with the revolver in his mouth and the top of his head blown off.” 

“So Mattie saved us both, even as father was pointing a gun at us.  Oh my God.  And he remembers it.” 

“At ten, he was old enough to remember everything, whereas you were only four and too young to really understand what was happening.  And then shortly thereafter when the two of you were placed in foster care, you were taken away from him, and he had no one.  The two of you had been the only children traveling with the circus at the time, so you had been very close.  It messed him up pretty bad to lose not only both his parents, but you as well, I can tell you.” 

“I can see why,” Will said, his heart aching for his brother. 

“Although your brother had an inkling of what he was by that point, as he matured and became an adult he had no one to guide him, to tell him what would happen if he tried to make love to a regular person.  He went through some rough times.  Some very rough times,” she said, frowning.  

After a few seconds of silence Will said, “So…what you’re telling me is that if I’m intimate with someone—someone other than my brother, that is—even if I love them …”

“You’ll most likely wake up beside their dead body. 

“But if I’m 20 years old now and have never changed, surely that means that I’m not like Matt,” Will said hopefully.    

“You’re still a virgin, right?  I know this because if you weren’t we wouldn’t be having this conversation.  And I am guessing you take that medication.” 

“What medication?” 

“That medication that omegas take nowadays to control their heats, that essentially sedates their hormones.  Am I right?” 

Will blushed but nodded. 

“I thought so.  That could be why too.  Up until recently there was no such medicine.  Listen, Will, accept your fate.  There is no changing it and no hiding from it.  If you don’t want to be with your brother, then live as he did—hidden, locked up.  Never love.  Go along and pretend the world is what people think it is,” she said, standing up. 

She started to leave then but paused.  “One more thing.  Do you know what the English translation for the name Guillermo is?” 

Will shook his head, unable to speak. 

“William.  You look just like how I always pictured him,” she said, smiling sadly, and then walked away. 

Will sat there feeling numb as thoughts kept racing through his mind.  He didn’t want to believe it, any of it, but what would Femolly gain by lying to him?  He closed his eyes, feeling as if his whole world was falling apart. 

Will’s eyes flew open as he suddenly realized something else, something that made his hands clench and his stomach knot.  The leopard, the one that had attacked the prostitute, the same one the zoo had captured and he had visited and felt drawn to and had spent the day sketching, the same leopard that had turned around and killed that awful man and somehow managed to escape—escaped, in fact, shortly before Matt showed up in his room saying that he had been in prison … if what Femolly had told him was true, then that leopard had been his brother.  _Jesus Christ!_

[](http://imgbox.com/KHzYq0eG)


	15. Chapter 15

Jackie DeWitt wandered unhappily among the grave markers in the New Orleans cemetery and thought black thoughts about the rotten vacation she was having after saving up all year for it working at a boring Seattle insurance agency.  Like so many dumb mistakes, this had seemed like a good idea at the time.  She thought she had it made when Carol Marshall suggested they share expenses on a vacation to New Orleans.  Carol was a co-worker and friend and the person Jackie would be if she could be reborn.  Carol was an omega and had naturally wavy blonde hair, a perfect complexion, huge blue bedroom eyes, and tits that could stop traffic.  The men in the office, alphas and betas alike, hung around her like flies around a honey pot. 

Not that Jackie was a dog.  Actually, she was rather nice-looking.  She simply did not have that extra something Carol had that attracted potential mates.  When she agreed to the joint vacation, it was Jackie’s hope that some of Carol’s magic might rub off.  She fantasized about the platoons of sexy dark-eyed alphas of New Orleans who, drawn to the gregarious Carol, would discover with pleasure the more subtle charms of her beta friend. 

Things had not worked out that way.  Things had not even come close.  They had arrived this morning, checked into a hotel, and gone to a local bar together this afternoon.  Carol had attracted alphas, all right, but as usual, Jackie might as well have been invisible.  She had sat with a smile frozen on her face, listening to the schlocky lines thrown at Carol, praying that one of them might throw a little her way.  None did. 

Twenty minutes after they walked into the bar, Carol walked out with a dark-haired salesman from Baltimore who looked like Tom Cruise. 

“You don’t mind, do you, Jackie?” 

“Of course not,” she said, smiling her plastic smile until she thought her face would crack. 

“I’ll see you later back at the hotel, okay?” 

“Sure.  Have fun,” Jackie said.  _It’s nice one of us will._  

So here she was, wandering through a lousy cemetery trying to figure out how to kill the rest of the day on her own.  So deep in self-pity was Jackie that she did not see the approach of the tall man with the arresting green eyes. 

“It’s quiet here, isn’t it?” 

She almost jumped out of her skin when the man spoke to her.  Then she saw how good-looking he was and caught herself grinning like an idiot.  Seemingly unable to stop herself, she babbled away about how she was not here for any morbid reason, and normally did not go strolling through graveyards, and she liked a little fun and excitement as well as the next person.  One thing led smoothly to another, and even sooner than she had hoped Jackie was having a drink with the tall stranger in a softly lit bar thinking that this may turn out to be a good vacation after all. 

“Matt is a nice name,” Jackie said, mentally kicking herself at the inane comment. 

The tall man did not seem to notice.  His great luminous eyes watched her intently as she sipped the pink rum drink known locally as a hurricane, and she flushed with pleasure at the attention. 

“It’s crowded in here, don’t you think?” he said.   

Actually, Jackie did not think so, but she was not about to disagree.  “Yes,” she said.  “Lots of tourists, I guess.” 

“Can we go somewhere to be alone?” 

_Oh._   It was like living out one of her fantasies.  Trying to sound calm with her heart pounding in her chest, she said, “My hotel isn’t far from here.   The room doesn’t have much of a view, but—” 

The man was obviously not interested in the view from Jackie’s room.  Before she had the sentence out of her mouth he was signaling for the check, and a minute later they were leaving the bar, he with an intimate grip on her arm that had her standing taller. 

An hour after that both were in Jackie’s bed in the Hotel Emile Zola, naked.  But Jackie’s romantic fantasy had come to a limp end some minutes before.  Matt sat on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped between his knees, staring morosely at the floor.  Jackie reclined beside him, stroking his bare back. 

“Don’t be upset, sweetie,” she told him.  “These things happen sometimes.’

Without looking at her, Matt said, “You’re a nice girl, Jackie.  I like you.” 

“Well, that’s no problem,” she said.  “I like you too.” 

“You don’t understand.” 

Jackie got up on her knees behind him and started massaging his shoulders, which were tight with anxiety.  “You’re just tense, that’s the problem.  Let’s see if Jackie can help you relax.  Here, just lie back,” she said, pushing his shoulders down toward the bed. 

Matt sighed, a deep sigh brought up from his soul.  He let Jackie ease him down on the bed. 

“Every time I pray it won’t happen,” he said.  “God knows I don’t want it to—” 

“Hush now,” Jackie said.  “It’s not the end of the world.  You just lie there and let someone else do the work for a change.” 

She started touching him then, rubbing her hands down his chest, his washboard abs, teasingly close to his groin.  He had the most incredible body she had ever seen, all hard planes and solid muscle, but his skin was as soft and smooth as a baby’s. 

Matt lay back flat on the bed staring at the ceiling as Jackie started kissing his chest, his stomach.  Her hot little tongue explored his navel. 

Jackie felt the tension grow in his muscles as her lips brushed the silky hairs at his groin.  She cupped his testicles in her hand, squeezing them gently. 

Matt moaned.  His flaccid penis stirred.  He started to sit up.  Jackie pushed him back down.  “See, there you go.  Now you just lie back and relax and let Jackie take care of you.” 

Matt lay back again, his arms straight at his sides, hands balled into fists, concentrating, trying to control his body. 

Jackie stroked the shaft of his penis.  It grew.  “There, you see?  Nothing wrong here,” she said huskily, her lips touching the velvety flesh.  She kissed the head.  She was actually enjoying the challenge of taking control and watching how he reacted to the different things she was doing.  She could tell he was holding back for some reason, but she knew how to fix that. 

She smiled seductively at him as she opened her mouth and took him inside. 

Matt tried to protest as Jackie’s lips closed over him, but the words would not come.  The warm, wet inner mouth sucked at him, caressed him, brought him rapidly toward the release he so badly craved.  And feared.  It was too late now to stop it.  He raised his hands to his face, praying to the God he had been trying so hard to serve that he had it under control, but saw his fingers bent into claws. 

 

His back was pressing on something cold.  There was a bright light shining in his face beyond his closed eyelids.  He heard the splash of running water. 

Matt opened his eyes.  It took a moment for him to get oriented.  He was lying naked on the tile of a bathroom floor.  Water was running from the faucet into the sink above him.  He looked down at himself.  His bare skin was clammy and paler than ever. 

_Oh, God.  It happened again!_

He got shakily to his feet and stood before the bathroom mirror with both hands braced on the sink.  He splashed water on his face from the cold water blasting from the faucet, then looked at his reflection.  His eyes looked haunted.  Turning off the water, he turned and faced the door, dreading opening it, but there was no postponing it.  He had to go through the bedroom in order to leave.  He wiped his face on one of the hotel towels and, bracing himself, went out. 

It was as bad as he feared.  Blood was everywhere—in soggy pools on the carpet, spattered on the walls, even a streak of dark red on the ceiling.  The rumpled bed sheets were soaked crimson.  Tangled up in the bloody bedclothes were bits and pieces of the woman.  Jackie had been her name, and she had been nice to him and now she was dead.  Matt was awash in self-loathing. 

He stepped carefully over the blood-soaked patches of carpet to the chair where his clothes lay neatly folded.  On the floor near his shoes was a hand.  It had been severed well above the wrist.  Broken bones and grisly tendons protruded from the raw end. 

He put on his clothes quickly, being careful not to look at the hand.  When he was dressed, he eased open the door and peered out into the hall.  For the moment it was deserted.  He slipped out of Jackie’s room, looked back briefly and said “I’m so sorry” to the dead girl, put the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the doorknob, and closed the door behind him.  He walked swiftly past the elevators, heading for the stairway. 

He had to find Will.  He needed his brother.  Will was the only one he could be with, the only one who could end this never-ending nightmare.  Will was the only one who could save him.  He had to find his brother or die trying. 


	16. Chapter 16

Hannibal was exhausted when he keyed open the door to his little house on Burgundy Street.  It was late, and riding around for hours in a vibrating helicopter looking for the elusive black leopard until it was too dark to see had left him with an aching back and a throbbing headache.  However, the thought of seeing Will cheered him up immensely. 

When he walked into the house, though, there were no lights on downstairs, and the room was in deep shadow. 

“Will?” 

“Over here, Hannibal.” 

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom he saw Will sitting in a chair near the window.  “Why are you sitting in the dark?” he asked, turning on a table light. 

“Just thinking.  I went and visited Femolly today.  I wanted to see if she could provide some answers regarding Matt and my family.” 

“And did she?” 

Will looked up at Hannibal then, and it was clear he was in distress.  “I think there’s something wrong with me, Hannibal.  I think that whatever is wrong with Matt is wrong with me as well.  It’s in my blood.  My blood is tainted.” 

“Will, stop this.  There is no reason for you to believe that whatever is going on with your brother has anything to do with you.  You lived a perfectly normal life with your adopted parents before coming back here, didn’t you?” he said reasonably. 

“Yes.  But I’ve always felt deep down that there was something different about me.  I don’t think I should involve you in my life any further.  I should leave here,” Will said, getting up, and it was then Hannibal noticed his suitcase next to the chair.    

“You can’t leave!” Hannibal blurted out, feeling a sense of panic.  Then more calmly he added, “You can’t leave because…I believe I’m falling in love with you.  Whatever this is we can work it out together.” 

“Oh, Hannibal,” Will said, tears filling his eyes as he wrapped his arms around the alpha and hugged him.  “How can you love me when you don’t really know me, when I don’t really know myself?” 

“I know everything I need to,” Hannibal said, tilting Will’s face up and bringing their lips together for a passionate kiss. 

Will responded with his whole body, but after a minute he pulled away.  Looking up, he saw the hunger in the alpha’s eyes and felt his body respond and match that hunger in kind, but he took a step back.  “Would you still love me if I told you I can’t go to bed with you?  Would you still want me to stay then?” 

“There’s no rush, Will.  I can wait until you’re ready.  I want everything to be right for us.” 

“No, Hannibal, I mean what if I could never make love to you?” 

“We’ll talk about all your concerns,” he promised, “but not tonight.  We’re both too tired to make these types of decisions right now.  Let me take your bag back up to your room.” 

Will felt mentally drained and did not object as Hannibal carried his suitcase up the stairs to his bedroom.  They kissed lightly as he stood in the doorway, then Hannibal left him and went to his own bed.  Although exhausted, Hannibal lay there for a long time running their conversation over in his mind, trying to understand what it meant. 

It felt like he had just closed his eyes when he was awakened by the insistent ringing of the telephone.  He grabbed at the receiver on his bedside table, still not fully awake.  Looking at the clock it was only 5:30. 

“Hello?” he said groggily.    

“Dr. Lecter?  It’s Sergeant Crawford.” 

“What can I do for you, Sergeant?” 

“I’d like you to come down to the Hotel Emile Zola.  There’s been a killing here.” 

“Somebody I know?” 

“A tourist.  Her name was Jackie DeWitt.” 

Hannibal was rapidly waking up and getting irritable.  “I don’t know a Jackie DeWitt, and I believe murder is your department, sergeant, not mine.” 

“This looks like the work of your leopard.” 

Hannibal was wide awake now, but stunned speechless for several seconds.  “In a hotel?”  

“Don’t ask me how or why, but that’s what it looks like.  The DeWitt woman was literally torn to pieces in her room.  I’ve seen a lot of murder victims, but I’ve never seen one ripped apart like this.  No human being could do it.” 

“All right,” Hannibal said, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

He hung up and stood up from his bed, frowning down at the telephone.  First the leopard attacked a woman in a massage parlor, and now a woman in a hotel?  He picked up the receiver again and called Alana. 

“Can you be ready to go downtown in ten minutes?” he asked when her sleepy voice came on the line. 

“I guess so.  What’s happening?” 

“You wouldn’t believe it over the phone.  I’ll fill you in when I pick you up.” 

He gathered some clothes and was heading for the bathroom when he saw Will standing in the hall outside his room. 

“I heard the phone ringing.  What is it?” Will asked. 

“There’s been … a new development regarding the leopard.  They want me to check it out.” 

Will hoped Matt hadn’t done anything stupid.  “I’ll get dressed and go with you.”

“No, you need to stay here.  I’ll get back as soon as I can.” 

Will’s eyes narrowed.  “Didn’t you just call Alana?” 

“Yes, but Alana is a professional and I may need her help.” 

“Whereas I would just be in the way.” 

“Please, Will, this is my profession; this is what I do.” 

“You and Alana.” 

“Yes, me and Alana,” Hannibal said, running his hand through his sleep tousled hair, clearly frustrated. 

Will turned and walked back into his room.  He closed the door firmly behind him.  Hannibal started to follow, then decided he would deal with this later, and continued to the bathroom to get dressed. 

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

The Hotel Emile Zola was not one of the Old World establishments with wrought-iron balconies that are found throughout the French Quarter.  Neither was it one of the gleaming new high-rises along Canal Street.  Built in the 1950s, it was a conservative-looking place that catered to families and tour groups.  It offered a minimum of frills at reasonable prices, all within easy walking distance of the Quarter. 

The lobby was in a turmoil when Hannibal and Alana walked in.  Policemen were arguing with a loud news crew from a local television station, members of the hotel staff were apologizing to guests, and everybody was talking at once. 

Sergeant Crawford pushed his way through the confusion to Hannibal and Alana.  He led them past the police guard into an elevator. 

Crawford punched the button for the fourth floor, and Hannibal’s eyebrows shot up. 

“How in the world did the leopard get to the fourth floor and into somebody’s room?” 

“I’m beginning to think this cat is Houdini,” Crawford said.  “We’ve interviewed everyone from the desk manager to the bellboys, and nobody saw it come in.” 

Hannibal shook his head. 

“I’m not sure the lady ought to see this,” Crawford said, as they got off the elevator. 

“If by ‘the lady’ you mean me,” Alana said, “I didn’t come all the way down here to go fetch coffee.” 

“Suit yourself,” the sergeant said.    

“Alana will be all right,” Hannibal assured him. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

The hallway was filled with policemen who were directing unofficial traffic away from the room.  Crawford pushed open the door and stood aside so the newcomers could see. 

Alana gasped and went pale.  Hannibal felt a wave of shock go through him at the savage brutality of the attack.  The sergeant watched their reaction with a certain grim satisfaction. 

“So, you tell me,” he said, “could a man have done this, or is this your leopard?” 

Hannibal entered the room and looked around.  “Didn’t anybody hear anything?” he asked. 

“Oh, sure.  Neighbors in the next room heard what sounded like animal growls and screaming, but they just assumed it was the television.” 

“Wonderful,” Hannibal said drily. 

“Nobody remembers seeing the victim come in last night.  Her roommate was out on some party of her own.  She came tiptoeing in about 4 a.m., and this is what she found.” 

Hannibal knelt to examine a disembodied hand that lay on the blood soaked carpet.  The marks on the ragged flesh were almost certainly teeth. 

“It does look like an animal attack,” he said.  “A particularly vicious one at that.” 

“There’s something else I want to show you,” Sergeant Crawford said. 

He beckoned Hannibal and Alana over to the bed.  “Walk around the outside edge of the carpet.  There’s no blood there.”  When Hannibal joined him he pointed to the wall above the headboard of the bed.  “Our friend might as well have left his signature.” 

There on the pale yellow wallpaper was the huge bloody imprint of a paw. 

“What about it?” Crawford asked. 

Hannibal examined the print.  “It’s a big cat, all right.  

“Is it your leopard?” 

Hannibal closed his eyes.  The hours with the veterinarian reports and his own repeated measurements left no room for doubt. 

“Yes,” he sighed.  “This is definitely the work of our leopard.” 


	17. Chapter 17

The sun, just risen in the east, appeared to sit on the water as it cast a glittery path across Lake Pontchatrain, a large inlet lake off the Gulf of Mexico.  Hannibal enjoyed the stunning effect before exiting the pickup off Interstate 10.  He drove about a mile and then turned off onto an unmarked dirt road that led up an incline toward the top of a hill.  In the back of the truck was fishing gear and overnight provisions.  Beside him on the seat, Will was thoughtful. 

“You’re absolutely positive it was the leopard and not just some psychopath who chopped up that woman’s body?” 

“Unfortunately, there’s no doubt about it.  The leopard pretty much left his signature with a bloody paw print. 

_Damn it, Matt!_

“Believe me,” Hannibal said, “it’s best that you didn’t go with me yesterday.  The way that hotel room looked is the stuff of nightmares.” 

"Will it give Alana nightmares?” 

Hannibal looked at Will quickly, caught the mischievous smile, and grinned in return. 

“It will do us both good to get away from the city for the weekend,” he said.  “And from that perplexingly elusive leopard.” 

Yes, Will thought, he definitely needed to be away from that perplexingly elusive leopard, otherwise known as his brother.  There was a lot he needed to think about, a lot of hard decisions that would have to be made in the next few days. 

“It is nice out here,” Will agreed out loud, breathing in the fresh air through the open window and glad to be away from the noisy, crowded city. 

When they reached the top of the incline, there, perched on the very edge of a cliff on a stone foundation, was a one-story modern-style house.  But it was the view up here that commanded Will’s attention.  He got out of the truck and did a 360 to take it all in.  The view up here was breathtaking.  He could see the entire lake all the way out to where it joined the Gulf of Mexico.  And where he turned around, out about 300 yards back from the house was a large forested area where he could hear birdsong. 

“This is incredible, Hannibal,” Will said, meaning it.   

“I bought this place five years ago so I would have a place to go when the pressures of the city or the job gets me down.  I spend a day or two out here and fish, cook outdoors, swim, and just unwind.” 

“Have you brought others out here?” 

Hannibal turned to look at him, but Will’s expression was innocent.  

“I’ve had a couple of parties.” 

“With Alana?” 

“Alana has been out here, yes,” Hannibal said. 

They gathered their things and went into the house.  Hannibal stood off to one side while Will walked around the living room.  The furnishings were a bit sparse but well made.  The walls were decorated with more of Hannibal’s animal photographs.  And then one full wall was floor to ceiling glass facing the lake, bringing that same breathtaking view inside the house.   

“I love it here,” Will said, turning to Hannibal.  “I really do.” 

“It has a certain charm,” Hannibal said, pleased at Will’s response.  “And there’s nowhere better to relax and clear your mind.” 

“I can think of one place that’s better,” Will said teasingly.  “The lake!  I’ll go out to the truck and get the fishing fear,” he said excitedly.  “The earlier we get out, the better they’ll be biting!” 

Thirty minutes later Hannibal and Will were loading their gear onto a small power boat tied to a long pier that extended thirty feet out into the lake.  Hannibal piloted the boat well out into the lake and dropped anchor. 

“This looks like a good spot,” Will said approvingly, getting his pole ready. 

Hannibal was happy to see the boyish enthusiasm Will showed when he pulled in a black bass or a sunfish.  His eyes glittered with pleasure as he yanked the flopping creatures from the water, expertly unhooked them, and tossed them into the catch bucket.  There was no sign of the moodiness that had come over him the last couple of days, and Hannibal was happy to see him smiling again. 

Midday they lunched in the boat on sandwiches packed the night before in New Orleans.  Hannibal drank bottled water he’d brought along.  Will had his usual carton of milk. 

When they had caught all the fish that they could possibly eat it was still early so they just let the boat drift while they talked and laughed and enjoyed each other’s company. 

When the sun was starting to set they went ashore where Hannibal built a big campfire.  Will insisted on cleaning the fish, and he proved remarkably deft with the gutting knife and showed none of the usual omega squeamishness at scooping out the innards.  They fried the fish in sizzling fat in an iron skillet with only salt and pepper for seasoning.  Hannibal could not remember a more delicious and enjoyable dinner in his life.  Will ate with the same hearty appetite he had admired the night they met. 

When the fish were eaten, the fire drowned, and the cooking gear rinsed and stowed in Hannibal’s pack, they started back up the incline toward the house, their arms linked. 

Will stopped suddenly, holding him back. 

“What is it?” Hannibal asked. 

“Listen” he said softly, his head tilted back. 

Hannibal peered at him in the gathering darkness.  “Listen to what?” 

“Everything.  The sounds of the night.  The little creatures all around us talking to each other.” 

Hannibal tried to concentrate on the chirping and chittering of small animals in the woods, but all he could think about was how beautiful Will looked in the moonlight and how very much he wanted to kiss him.  So that’s what he did, he took Will in his arms and kissed him.

Will kissed him back hungrily.  His mouth opened and their tongues met and teased each other while Hannibal slipped a hand under Will’s shirt and brushed a thumb over a nipple. 

Abruptly Will pulled away from him.  “Oh, God, I’m sorry, that was my fault.” 

Hannibal groaned.  He ached with the wanting of him. 

Will moved close again and touched his cheek with warm fingers.  “I know, and I want it too.” 

“Then why—?” 

“It isn’t the right time yet,” he said.  “I have to be … certain about something first.” 

Will had been thinking a lot about what Femolly had told him—pretty much nonstop, in fact—and still thought it was possible that she was wrong about him.  After all, if Guillermo was completely human, then it made sense that not every single child born from his bloodline would carry the dominant leopard gene and turn into a leopard.  Surely Guillermo’s genes would dominate here and there resulting in individuals who perhaps carried the leopard gene but were otherwise completely normal.  Still, he couldn’t take the chance until he was one hundred percent certain.  He would not risk hurting Hannibal. 

Maybe he should just tell Hannibal the truth.  Then they could test the theory by tying Will up or putting a collar and chain on him, similar to what Hannibal described was in the basement of the Brown house.  Maybe that’s what its original purpose was.  It was certainly worth thinking about.  Then they could find out one way or the other, and Hannibal would be able to get away from him if he did start to change.  But would Hannibal even believe him?  The whole thing sounded crazy, even to him.  Still, it was worth thinking about. 

He came out of his musings when Hannibal said, “If it’s my feelings that you’re uncertain about, I can assure you that I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.  Ever,” he said, eyes pools of desire. 

“It’s not your feelings I question, it’s everything else,” Will said, caressing his cheek.  “I just need a little more time to get everything sorted out in my head.  Please be patient just a little while longer,” Will said with pleading eyes.   

Hannibal took in a deep breath of the cool air off the lake, letting it fill his lungs and temper his desire.  “All right, Will.  We should probably turn in now.  I didn’t get much sleep last night, what with the leopard deciding to make another memorable appearance.” 

Will smiled sadly and ran his fingers through Hannibal’s hair, finger combing it back, loving the silky feel of it.  “Soon,” he said in a husky voice, his eyes full of promise. 

The lack of sleep the previous night, the day spent out in the fresh air, the fishing and the satisfying fish dinner combined to put Hannibal into a deep sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.  Not so Will.  He always had trouble sleeping in unfamiliar places, but on this night he found it even harder to sleep than usual.  It was so quiet out here compared to New Orleans’ constant stream of noise, yet the quiet had a different quality than the familiar quiet of Wolf Trap.  He could hear the sound of Hannibal’s regular breathing in the next room, the lapping of the waves against the shore down below, and the creaks and groans common to every house. 

And there were other sounds.  The voices of the night creatures that he had heard so clearly when they were leaving the campfire.  The voices floated to him now through the walls of the house and it felt like if he could just concentrate a little harder he could make out what they were saying. 

After a wakeful hour of tossing and turning, he peeled back the blanket and got out of bed.  Quietly he went next door to where Hannibal lay sleeping.  It was dark, but Will had no trouble seeing.  He walked across the floor without making a sound and looked down at him.  His hand went to the nipple that Hannibal had touched earlier and he stroked it, wishing it was Hannibal’s hand on him instead, wishing even more that he could crawl into the bed with the alpha right now and be with him.  He let his hand trail down his stomach to his groin.  He massaged himself, eyes closed, yielding to a momentary fantasy. 

When he opened his eyes he just felt frustrated.  Quietly exiting the room, he crossed to the front door and slipped out quietly into the darkness. 

The night sounds were much louder outside.  Will inhaled, breathing in the night like a perfume.  Moving with unconscious grace, he headed toward the wooded area and kicked off his slippers, which he found suddenly uncomfortable, and continued barefoot into the woods. 

The trees closed in around him like a group of welcoming friends.  A sudden breeze fluffed his hair and cooled the fever of this cheeks. 

The sounds around him intensified.  As they did so, the shadows of the forest lightened and gave up their secrets.  Will found he could see into every corner and crevice. 

A mouse scampered through the grass with a great crashing noise.  A thunderous flapping overhead turned out to be the flight of an owl.  A methodical crunching, grinding was the insect life in a rotted tree stump.  He heard a high, almost feminine scream as the swooping owl seized the mouse in its talons.  A panicky hum from behind him was a fly caught in the web of a spider.  An ominous twang sounded as the spider hurried along a silken strand to claim its prey. 

Will was part of it all.  This was where he belonged.  He stood in the center of a small clearing and let the life of the night seep into him.  He turned slowly, breathing in deeply through his mouth, tasting it. 

There was a movement in the grass and Will froze as a rabbit hopped into view.  It stopped, nose switching, looking this way and that, alert for predators.  Will looked at the rabbit, and then smiled.  The rabbit saw him.  Its sudden rapid breathing was like the whimper of a frightened child.  It darted away.  Will sprang after it. 

 

Hannibal was awakened by a sudden cool breeze on his face.  The click of the front door shutting snapped him fully awake.  Panic surged through him as he wondered if Matthew Brown had somehow found this place.  With muscles tensed, he listened while slipping out of bed and looking for something he could use as a weapon.  There was the soft pad of footsteps across the planks of the floor; then a dark silhouette filled his doorway, moving toward him. 

He fumbled for the bedside lamp and turned it on.  The instant the light brightened the room he saw Will standing in just his boxers, soaking wet, shivering, his eyes wild. 

“Will, what happened?” he asked, stripping the blanket off his bed and wrapping it around the shivering omega. 

“I couldn’t sleep and I got warm, so I decided to go for a swim in the lake.,” Will said, his teeth chattering.  “It was a dumb idea.” 

“I hope you’re not running another one of your fevers,’ Hannibal said, feeling his forehead.  “No, your forehead is cool.  Is that blood on your mouth?” 

“No!  I mean yes,” Will said, rubbing his mouth roughly with trembling hands.  “I mean, my teeth are chattering so hard I bit my lip.” 

“Well let’s get you in the bathroom.  You need to take a warm shower and dry off so you don’t catch a cold.” 

Hannibal herded him to the bathroom and turned on the shower, adjusting the water temperature until it was warm but not hot.  “There’s a robe on the back of the door you can put on after you shower.  Call me if you need anything,” Hannibal said before exiting the room. 

The door shut and Will just stood there looking at himself in the mirror.  He tried to convince himself that what he remembered didn’t really happen.  He was probably just sleepwalking again while having a bad dream, that’s all.  There is no way that actually happened, no way he would ever _do_ something like that. 

Will continued to stare into the mirror over the sink while he brushed his teeth with shaking hands, repeating those words over and over in his head, even while he tried to scrub the metallic taste of blood from his mouth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only three chapters left! In the next chapter lives will converge and blood will spill. See you then!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fought me tooth and nail. Or should I say fang and claw! ;) But here it is, for better or worse!

Back in New Orleans at Hannibal’s cozy house on Burgundy Street, it was not hard to believe that the whole thing had been some wild imagining.  The beautiful house on the hill, the beckoning woods, the night voices, the rabbit, the blood … None of it seemed real when viewed from a safe distance. 

And yet Will knew that it _was_ real.  He was too sensible to live in a world of pretense.  It had all happened just the way he remembered it.  He had pounced on that rabbit and killed it, then ripped it apart with his bare hands and eaten it raw like an animal.  Worse, he had enjoyed it.  The fresh meat, hot and wet in his mouth, had tasted like ambrosia.  When he came back to himself and realized what he had done, he had been shocked and fled down to the lake to wash off the evidence of it that was coating his hands and dripping down his face and body.  Too bad he couldn’t cleanse the memory of it as easily. 

It was time to face facts.  He simply could not bury his head in the sand any longer.  He wasn’t sure if he was exactly like Matt and the rest of his family since he hadn’t actually shifted or transformed, or whatever the hell you called it, but something had happened to him and he couldn’t delude himself into thinking he was normal any longer.  Or that he wasn’t potentially dangerous. 

Hannibal had been very good about the whole thing the next morning.  After politely asking him if he was all right, Will had assured him he was and Hannibal hadn’t mentioned it again.   

Thinking about Hannibal now brought a lump to his throat.  He was the kindest, most gentle, and most understanding man he had ever known.  More than that, he stirred up passions within him that Will had never felt before.  But that was where the danger lay, for both of them. 

He looked down from the mirror to his sketchbook and continued with the drawing he had worked on throughout the early morning. 

A soft rap at the door. 

Hannibal’s voice:  “Will, are you awake?” 

“Yes …  But I’m not dressed,” he lied. 

“I have to go to work now,” he said.  “I should be home about six.” 

“I—I’ll be here.” 

A pause, then, “I love you.” 

Will caught his lip between his teeth while his eyes filled with tears.  He longed to say the words back but he stayed silent.  There was silence for a moment while Hannibal waited for his reply, then the sound of his footsteps going down the stairs. 

Will pulled a Kleenex from a box on the table and wiped his eyes.  He balled it up and threw it away angrily, forcing himself to concentrate on the drawing in his book.  It was a picture of himself and Hannibal, side-by-side, but while Hannibal’s face was normal, his own face had small, grotesque changes.  The eyes were more slanted, staring intently out from the page.  The nose was broader, the mouth shaped differently, the ears tapered back.  It was as though he were in the midst of some ghastly metamorphosis while Hannibal stood next to him, smiling and unsuspecting. 

Impulsively Will slashed back and forth across the freakish rendition of his own face with the soft pencil, scarring the picture with crisscross lines until the lead snapped.  Staring at Hannibal’s face, which smiled back at him undamaged, he touched the face with his fingers and said, “I love you too, Hannibal,” before putting his head down on his arms and crying bitterly at how unfair life was. 

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

“We’re calling off the search,” Sergeant Crawford said. 

Hannibal looked up from his desk in the zoo administration building and frowned, while Alana Bloom stood behind him. 

“It’s been three days since the woman was killed in the hotel room,” Crawford continued, “and there’s been no sign of the cat anywhere in the city since.  An eighty-year-old woman called yesterday saying she spotted it in her yard; turned out she can’t see very well and it was her neighbor’s black Labrador roaming around in her yard.” 

Hannibal tapped the end of a pencil on his desk.  “Somehow I feel he’s still out there.” 

“I don’t see how.  A black panther that size—” 

“Leopard,” Hannibal corrected with annoyance. 

“Right, leopard.  Anyway, a cat that size can’t wander around a city of half a million people without somebody seeing it.  I say it’s either dead or it’s left the state.” 

“A dead leopard is just as visible as a live one,” Hannibal pointed out.  “My gut is telling me he’s still here in New Orleans.” 

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” the sergeant said.  “We don’t have the manpower to devote any more time to hunting him.” 

“Yeah, the budget,” Hannibal said bleakly.  “I know how that goes.” 

“What about Matthew Brown?” Alana asked. 

“Him we’re still looking for,” Crawford said. 

“Any leads?” Hannibal asked. 

“No, not yet.  But we’ll get him.  And when we do, he should be able to answer a lot of questions for us.” 

“I hope so,” Hannibal said, looking thoughtful.

The sergeant said his goodbyes and left the office. 

Tossing the pencil down and glancing up at the wall clock Hannibal said, “Why don’t we call it a day?  I promised Will I would be home by six.”

“Fine,” Alana said, trying to hide her annoyance.  “Would you mind giving me a ride home?” 

“Not at all.” 

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

A loud crack of thunder jolted Will out of a restless sleep.  He had wandered aimlessly around the house all day just thinking, and when his bleak thoughts had gotten the better of him he had gone into Hannibal’s bedroom and curled up on his bed, wrapping himself in the alpha’s covers and soothing scent and had fallen asleep. 

He looked groggily over at the window and it was pouring down rain.  He checked the clock on the bedside table and it read five-fifteen.  Hannibal should be home soon.  He couldn’t wait.  He’d felt so alone being in this house by himself all day.  He just wanted to be held, to pretend that everything was going to be all right, if only for a little while. 

Because of the rabbit incident he had made the decision that he needed to go back to Wolf Trap, away from both Hannibal and his brother.  He couldn’t be with Hannibal the way he wanted, and he refused to be with Matt the way Matt wanted, so there was no point staying here.  In Wolf Trap he could look forward to pretending to be like everyone else while he was forever standing on the sidelines watching the people around him live their happy lives with their mates and children while life simply passed him by.  Hannibal would forget all about him eventually, probably marry Alana, and they would have half a dozen children to love.  They would go on vacations to the beautiful house on the hill and fish and laugh and play, and Hannibal’s memory of Will would fade with the oblivion of time.   

He sat up on the side of the bed and looked at the rain streaming down the windows, which matched the tears now streaming down his face as he thought about the life that he could have had if he had just been born into a normal family.  He would have been happy with Hannibal, he knew he would have been.  He had felt a special connection between them from the moment they met. 

Thunder suddenly boomed outside, startling Will, and a flash of lightening lit the scene outside in stark relief.  Will froze.  Crouched in the branches of the tree outside his window was his brother, Matt. 

Will jumped as the window shattered, and he found himself on his hands and knees on the bed in a defensive posture staring at his brother, who had somehow jumped through the second story window, and was standing there soaking wet staring at him.  He growled softly, then stopped, blinking in surprise as he had never made that sound in his life.  His hands were clenching the mattress, nails dug into the sheets like claws. 

“Save me, Will,” his brother said plaintively.  “Only you can stop this killing.  You've got to make love with me.  As brother and sister.  I tried so many different times thinking that this time it would be different, that I could control the beast, but each time I failed and the beast broke free.  I searched for you for so long, from one foster home to another, until I finally tracked you down.  We can live together as mates, just as our parents did.  You do know that our parents were brother and sister, don't you?”

“Femolly told me,” Will said.  “She told me everything, including how you saved us both when father was going to shoot us.  But she also told me that mother had doubts about living with her brother, and that’s why she seduced the strong man.  Listen, Matt, I can’t be with you the way you want.  Besides, I’m twenty years old now and I’ve never turned into a leopard.  I don’t really think I’m like you.”

“Well that's the lie that will kill your lover,” Matt said, slowly circling the bed, putting himself between Will and the door.  “At least let me spare you that horror.” 

Will got off the bed on the opposite side from Matt and backed away.  Fortunately he was wearing his shoes as he crunched over the broken glass. 

Matt got on the bed then and stretched out, crossing his feet at the ankles and patting the space next to him.  “Come on, little brother.  Come and lie next to me.  Let me prove to you that you’re wrong.  Let me show you the pleasures that our kind can share.” 

“No.”

“You think Hannibal loves you, is that it?  He doesn't love you, Will, he loves the cat.  He works in that zoo where he’s constantly surrounded by wild, exotic animals.  He senses that same exotic wildness in you and that’s why he wants you.” 

“No, you’re wrong!” Will said, getting angry.     

Matt pressed his advantage.  “Let the dark-haired beta have him.  She wants him and he can be safe with her.  How will you feel when you make love to him and then put his head in your mouth and crush it like an egg?  Let me at least spare you that.  Let the beta have him.  They’re safe together.  So are we.  Take my hand, Will,” he said, holding out his hand to his brother.

“No,” Will said adamantly.  Even if you’re right and I am like you, I can’t make love to my own brother.  I just can’t, Mattie.”   

“If you won’t stay with me, then you leave me with no choice,” Matt said, getting off the bed and picking up a large shard of glass from the floor and moving toward Will.  “Leopards aren’t made to live alone, Will.  I’ve suffered all these years waking up to the dead bodies of my lovers.  Can you imagine what that’s like?” he said with real anguish.  “If you won’t stay with me, if you can’t bring yourself to love me, then I don’t want to live anymore.  I’ll finish what father started and kill us both, ending our cursed bloodline for good.  Or, perhaps I’ll kill you and wait for your Hannibal to come home and kill him first before I kill myself.  How would you like that?” 

“Okay, Mattie, you win,” Will said placatingly, moving slowly toward his brother and wrapping his arms around him.  He rubbed the side of his face against Matt’s face and neck in a seductive manner.  “I'll come with you, all right?  No one needs to get hurt.  We can leave here together.  Right now.” 

“You’re lying to me to lure me away from your lover, Will,” Matt said, enjoying this brother’s touch, becoming quickly aroused by the feel of his brother’s body pressed against his.  He could feel the change already trying to take control, but this time it would be all right.  This time he wouldn’t have to try and hold back because he would be safe with his brother.  And he wanted him, wanted him so bad.  But he didn’t trust him.  If he could just prove to Will that they were the same, then Will would have to give up this foolish hope that he could be with Hannibal and hopefully come with him willingly.  But in order to do that, Will needed to experience the change. 

“No, Mattie, I’ll be yours, I promise,” he said, continuing to rub against Matt.  “Let’s just go,” he said, trying to draw him toward the door.

“Then prove it, Will.  Let me make love to you right here, right now.” 

“Mattie, no, not here!  _Please!_   He’s due home very soon!” 

“Then we’d best make it quick.  Make your choice now, Will,” he said, still holding the glass shard. 

“All right, Matt,” Will said reluctantly.  “All right.” 

“Good.  Now get on the bed, Will.  On your hands and knees.  We will mate as leopards do.”  

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

As Alana relaxed back against the seat in the truck she said, “I sure could use a nice hot cup of that French roast coffee of yours.  I want to go to the gym when I get home, but I’m so tired,” she said with a theatrical yawn, putting her arms over her head and stretching, pushing her breasts out provocatively.  “But, I really should go to the gym if I want to keep this body in tip-top condition,” she said, clearly fishing for a compliment.  When Hannibal made no reply she said, “Do you think we could stop by your place and you could make me a cup?  Then I can walk over to the gym.  It’s only four blocks from your house.” 

Hannibal frowned slightly.  It wasn’t unusual for Alana to stop by the house for coffee, but it seemed a bit awkward with Will in the house.  Still, it was a reasonable request and he couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse her. 

“Of course,” he said, grudgingly. 

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

Will crawled on the bed and looked back at his brother over his shoulder.  There was a wild, primitive gleam in Matt’s eyes, and Will felt a primitive part of himself that had long been lying dormant wake up and eye Matt back with interest, despite himself. 

The bed shifted and Matt was suddenly on the bed, climbing on top of him.  Will felt himself growing warm, getting wet, and as much as he wanted to deny it, his body wanted this; wanted to be bred, and it suddenly didn’t matter that Matt was his brother.  Heat was sizzling down his spine and limbs making it feel as if he was touching a live wire, and he found himself throwing back his head, arching his back, and growling softly. 

“That’s it, Will,” Matt said.  “It’ll all be clear shortly, I promise,” he said soothingly.  “Don’t be afraid.  I’ll guide you through this first time.” 

Will heard the back of his shirt ripping, and suddenly the two sides fell down his arms on either side of him.  Matt was nuzzling and licking his shoulders and neck, and Will was surprised at how rough his tongue felt.  He angled his head to the side to give Matt better access, closing his eyes to better enjoy the sensation.  He heard a purring behind him as Matt continued to lick him.  He had heard that alphas do sometimes purr when they’re happy, but he had never heard it before. 

Will hissed in surprise when Matt suddenly bit down on the joint between his neck and shoulder, pushing him down to his elbows and holding him in place.  Will pushed his ass up in response, totally submissive.  It seemed as if his body was acting on its own as he felt his knees spread of their own accord.  Matt’s body felt so nice, so soft.  He could almost imagine it was fur sliding across his back.  His own body was prickling uncomfortably now, but he was panting with need, mewling encouragement as Matt’s unusually long fingers pulled clumsily at his pants. 

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

When Hannibal and Alana entered the house, the lights downstairs were off and Hannibal felt a moment of panic as he thought Will had left, but then relaxed when he saw Will’s jacket hanging on a hook by the door.  Will was probably just upstairs taking a nap.  If he was lucky, Alana would have her coffee quickly and be gone before Will woke up.

He went into the kitchen and put water on to boil and got the coffee bean grinder out.  Alana had followed him and now leaned against the counter with her arms crossed.  As Hannibal poured coffee beans into the grinder he could feel her watching him, could actually feel the tension rolling off her. 

“I think we need to talk,” she said. 

“What about?” he said, looking up at her briefly as he turned the handle on the grinder. 

“About us.” 

“What about us?”  Off in the distance thunder grumbled as if mirroring Hannibal’s mood. 

“Things haven’t been the same between you and me since Will arrived,” Alana said. 

“It has been … a difficult couple of weeks,” Hannibal said evasively. 

“Are you in love with him?” she asked bluntly. 

Hannibal sighed.  He did not want to do this right now, but it looked like there was no way to avoid it.  “There is something I’m drawn to that I can’t define,” he said discretely. 

“Have you slept with him yet?” 

“Not that that’s any of your business, but no, I haven’t.” 

“I’m just trying to find out where things stand between us.  Before Will arrived I thought I knew; now I’m not sure.” 

Hannibal frowned.  He clearly had underestimated the extent of Alana’s feelings toward him.  He had never told the beta he loved her or spoken of a future together, but clearly she thought there was something more between them.  “Alana, you know I’m very fond of you …” 

“Fond?  Is that why we spent all those nights of passion together,” she said, moving up to him and putting her hands around his neck, “because you were fond of me?  Did you tell Will about us?” 

“No,” he said, gently removing her hands and looking toward the staircase, surprised Will hadn’t heard Alana, as she was making no attempt to keep her voice down, “although I believe he does suspect there was something between us.  Listen, Alana, you and I never talked about a future together.  As far as I was concerned we were two consenting adults enjoying each other’s company.  I consider you a good friend and value that friendship, but I do have feelings for Will and I would like to explore those feeling further and see where they lead.  That being said, I consider what happened between us before I met Will to be in the past,” he said, starting to pace, feeling uncharacteristically agitated. 

“So, what, I was just a convenience to you?  Someone close by to warm your bed on occasion?” 

“I seem to recall you being an active and willing participant, and you always seemed to enjoy yourself, so don’t make yourself out to be some sort of victim in this,” he snapped, continuing to pace. 

“Stop pacing and do me the courtesy of looking at me please!  What’s wrong with you?” 

“I don’t know,” he said, stopping, looking toward the stairs leading up to Will’s room.  “Something feels wrong.” 

“What do you mean?” she said, following his line of vision. 

“Something to do with Will.” 

“You don’t think Matthew Brown found this place, do you?” she asked nervously. 

“I’m not sure, but I need to check on him.” 

Hannibal ran toward the stairs, feeling an increased sense of urgency.  His instincts were practically screaming that something wasn’t right. 

Hannibal reached the top of the stairs and ran to Will’s room first, but it was empty.  He felt panicked until he saw the door to his own bedroom shut.  He always left his bedroom door open.  The door had no lock and swung open easily.  He froze at what he saw, blinking rapidly as his mind worked furiously at trying to interpret what it was he was seeing. 

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

Alana had been on Hannibal’s heels but stopped when she spotted the rifle leaning up against the bookcase right next to the staircase.  She paused long enough to grab it and check to make sure it was loaded.  When she saw that it was, she headed up the stairs after Hannibal.  If there was trouble up there she wanted to be prepared. 

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

When the bedroom door opened, Matt growled and jumped off the bed, dragging Will along with him.  He held Will in front of him like a shield, but had a possessive arm around him, holding him in place.  He growled again, furious at the interruption.  He recognized Hannibal Lecter immediately

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

Hannibal looked between the two of them in shock.  He knew that the man standing behind Will holding onto him was his brother, Matthew—he had seen pictures of him at the Brown house—but the Matt he had seen in those pictures looked nothing like this.  The hand holding Will in place was covered in black fur that ended in dagger-like claws.  The skin on Matt’s face looked stretched thin and shiny, the nose more pointed.  He could also see hair on his neck and the sides of his face.  And his eyes—those bright green eyes, so similar to his brother’s, were slitted like a cat’s.  Hannibal watched as Matt’s lips pulled back, exposing an impressive set of fangs, and a rumbling growl escaped the man’s throat, issuing a challenge, warning Hannibal off. 

The hair over Hannibal’s entire body stood on end at the challenge and he fisted his hands, ignoring Matt’s challenge for now as he took the time to examine Will more closely.  Will was shirtless and coated in sweat, he was breathing heavily, and he seemed to be going through the same transformation as his brother, but less further along.  There was a dusting of hair on his jaw and arms, the elongated claws, the slitted, glowing, jewel-like eyes.  Jesus, this seemed impossible, yet it did seem to answer some of the questions Hannibal had, like why Will had said his blood was tainted, and why he resisted having a more intimate relationship with him when it was clear he wanted to.  It was all starting to make sense now. 

Hannibal scented the air.  The scent of arousal was heavy in the air, but it was more like the scent he was used to at the zoo, primal and musky.  Sergeant Crawford had thought that Matt wanted to kill Will, but he was wrong.  Matthew never wanted to kill his brother, he wanted to mate him. 

“Hannibal…,” Will said plaintively, pushing at his brother’s arm, trying to go to him. 

Hannibal fisted his hands and concentrated on trying to remain calm, even while he felt his blood roar. 

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

When Alana reached the top of the stairs with the rifle she saw Hannibal standing inside his bedroom doorway as if transfixed.  She ran in beside him and froze, gasping at what she saw, not believing her eyes.  There was Will—at least she thought it was Will—half naked, while another man, similarly shirtless, was holding onto him possessively.  Neither man, however, looked totally human.  She looked at the fingers wrapped possessively around Will’s torso, thickened and curved with sharp claws showing.  Both men had eyes that looked slitted and glowed like green emeralds.  And then there was the hair on both of their faces and bodies ....  _No, not hair_ , she thought— _fur.  What the hell?!_  

She quickly raised the rifle at them, hands trembling, and the freak holding Will growled—actually growled at her!  She glanced over at Hannibal, expecting to see a look of disbelief, and perhaps even revulsion, on his face.  But the expression on his face wasn’t what she expected.  There was some disbelief, but mainly there was what she interpreted as awe and determination.  She didn’t understand it.  What was wrong with him? 

~~~⊰X⊱~~~

Hannibal saw the gun in Alana’s hands and realized the potential for a violent and tragic outcome here had just doubled.  Taking a deep, calming breath and hoping to diffuse some of the tension in the room he calmly said, “Matthew, please stop growling, you’re making Alana nervous.  And Alana, please lower the gun, you’re making Matthew and Will nervous.” 

That was the wrong thing to say, however, as Alana made the connection. 

“Matthew?” Alana said, looking between Hannibal and the man.  “As in Matthew Brown, the man who killed all those people and fed them to the leopard in his basement?”  She shivered as she remembered seeing that cage in the basement full of human bones.  He had probably also snuck the leopard into that hotel room and watched as it ripped that poor woman to pieces too.  He was a sick, twisted killer and a monster, and apparently he was some kind of freak as well.  Plus, unless her senses were deceiving her, it sure looked as if he was about to have sex with his own brother!  What kind of sick pervert has sex with his own brother?!  And Will—Will was apparently a freak too!  She should just do the world a favor and shoot the pair of them.  She tightened her hold on the rifle. 

“Alana, for God’s sake don’t shoot us!” Will said, still trying to free himself from his brother’s grasp. 

“Jesus, Hannibal,” she said, glancing up at him, “what the hell kind of freaks are they?!” she asked, looking for support. 

“Alana, there is no need for name calling,” Hannibal said, keeping his tone neutral.  This was a powder keg ready to blow and Will was right in the middle of it.  He was going to get hurt, or possibly even killed, if Hannibal couldn’t diffuse this situation, and quickly. 

“Are you kidding me right now?” she said angrily.  “You’re seriously worried about me hurting their feelings?!” 

“What is she even doing here!” Will hissed angrily at Hannibal, apparently taking offense at Alana calling him a freak.  

“Oh, didn’t Hannibal tell you?” she said, looking at Will with mock innocence.  “I come here frequently.  Sometimes I even spend the night.” 

“ALANA!” Hannibal said, shocked and furious at the woman. 

Matt was looking at him and smiling, which didn’t help his own growing anger, but at least Matt’s transformation seemed to have halted. 

“Hannibal?” Will said plaintively, looking both hurt and angry. 

Hannibal’s fisted hands tightened as Will’s distress was affecting the alpha part of him, causing his gut to clench and making it hard for him to concentrate.  It would be affecting Matthew similarly and he didn’t want Will’s brother to do anything rash.  “We’ll discuss this later, sweetheart, but right now I need you to remain calm while I handle this.  Alana, lower the gun,” Hannibal said, more forcefully this time. 

“Like hell I will!” Alana said, feeling a wave of anger.  Of course he was worried about his precious Will getting hurt, not about what would happen to her if one of those … _things_ … attacked her.  She was not lowering the gun.  “I will not end up like those people in their basement!” she shouted, her voice taking on an edge of hysteria.  “Matthew Brown might have even brought the leopard here with him.  It could be somewhere nearby right now waiting for its next meal!” she said, eyes darting around nervously as if expecting it to spring at her from behind the bed. 

“I don’t think the leopard is wandering around, Alana,” Hannibal said, looking pointedly at Matthew while realizing Alana hadn’t made the connection yet that Matthew actually _was_ the leopard.    

“Well you can take chances with your own life, but not with mine.  I’m not lowering the gun.  Now why don’t you call Sergeant Crawford and tell him you’ve got Matthew Brown while I keep the two of them covered?  But if they move or try anything, I’m shooting,” she said with steely-eyed conviction. 

“Just let us leave here, Alana, and I promise you’ll never see either of us again,” Will said, looking pointedly at Hannibal, the hurt and betrayal he felt visible in his eyes. 

Alana looked at Will.  Even looking like some kind of freak, he was still beautiful.  She could understand why Hannibal wanted him, but that didn’t make the pill any less bitter to swallow.  She had been in love with Hannibal for the past three years and had been sure that they had a future together—and then Will had showed up and ruined it. 

Now as she looked at him, she felt her jealousy burn brighter.  She wanted him ruined.  She wanted to smash that pretty face of his in.  She wanted him in prison being used by every single inmate.  “You’re not going anywhere,” she said. 

“Let us pass or I will kill you both,” Matthew said in a gravely-growly voice, showing his elongated canines which spooked Alana further and had the gun shaking in her hands. 

“Matthew, you’re not helping the situation here…” Hannibal said.  He noticed how badly the rifle was shaking in Alana’s grasp.  Her finger was squeezing the trigger at a dangerous level. 

“Easy, Alana,” he said softly, trying to calm the woman.  “Let’s all talk like civilized adults and figure this out.”  

“Civilized?” Seriously?” she said, looking pointedly at Will and Matt.  “I told you to call Sergeant Crawford!” she snapped. 

Matthew growled again, looking between them and the door, tightening his hold on Will and starting to look desperate. 

“At least lower the muzzle toward the floor in case it accidentally goes off, Alana,” Hannibal tried again, reaching over merely to push the barrel down, but Alana, thinking he was trying to grab the gun, danced away, looking totally freaked out now, swinging the gun briefly in his direction before pointing it back at Matt and Will, her finger trembling on the trigger. 

“What is wrong with you?” she said.  “Are you trying to get me killed?  You think I’m going to interfere with you and your freak boyfriend here so you’re trying to get me out of the way, is that it?  Well if you don’t call Sergeant Crawford right this minute I’m going to shoot them both, I swear to Christ!” 

“Matthew growled again, giving Alana such a feral look that her knees started knocking.  

“Mattie, stop it!” Will growled.  He could see that Hannibal was trying to help, but nobody was cooperating and that was making Will angry.  He also felt that tingling feeling down his spine starting up again. 

“If either of you move I will put you down like the pair of mangy rabid dogs that you look like!” Alana shrieked, the smell of panic and terror pouring off her in waves now. 

Hannibal closed his eyes for a second, Alana’s insult still ringing in his ears.  When he opened his eyes he could see that Will’s face was flushed with anger, and that anger seemed to be triggering the change again.  As he watched, Will’s own claws lengthened further into deadly points.  He knew that if Will or his brother fully transformed into leopards, there would be no way to salvage this as Alana would simply open fire. 

But then Will spoke:  “If you don’t put the gun down right now and let us pass, Alana, I’m going to rip out your liver and eat it while you watch!” he said in a low growl, suddenly looking even more feral than his brother. 

“Alana, for the last time, I’m begging you, just calm down and lower the gun!” Hannibal said, even as he knew that this had gone past the point of no return.  “You can even keep the gun and leave the room and I’ll deal with this.  I promise you I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“I do,” Will growled, smiling, and it was not a pleasant smile with his fangs peeking below his upper lip. 

Hannibal groaned.  This had escalated to the point where nobody was willing to back down, and this was definitely going to end in bloodshed, he was sure of that now.  The only question was, whose? 

“Shut up, all of you!” Alana shrieked, waving the rifle dangerously between them all, making Hannibal flinch as he expected the gun to discharge.  “Hannibal, I am not lowering the gun, and I am not leaving you in here alone with these two.  But what I am doing is giving you to the count of five to call for help.  If you are not on the phone with Sergeant Crawford when I reach five, I’m shooting.  One! … You’d better get moving because I am not kidding!  Two! …  No one will blame me if I defend myself against a couple of murdering freaks!  Just look at them!  Three! … Your sweet, innocent, precious Will has probably been helping his brother kill people and then fucking his brother behind your back to boot!  Four! …  Don’t say I didn’t warn you…” she said with a manic gleam in her eyes.  She had the gun pointed right at Will’s face now.  “Five!”

“Alana, _NO!_ ” 

_(BANG!)_

……….

……….

The ensuing silence was so profound you could hear a pin drop.  The stink of gunpowder and the coppery tang of blood now saturated the air.  The silence went on for several seconds, but then was suddenly broken by a steady plop-plop-plot as blood trailed down a body from a gaping hole and dripped onto the hardwood floor. 

Three sets of eyes were all focused on Alana as she stood with her eyes and mouth wide open in shock, a jagged, gaping hole now in the place where her throat had been.  Then, like a marionette with its strings cut, her head lolled back and her lifeless body hit the floor. 

Will and Matt’s gazes shifted to Hannibal in stunned disbelief as they took in the clawed hand which had sliced through Alana’s throat like tin foil.  He had grabbed the muzzle of the rifle with one hand with incredible speed and forced it toward the ceiling before ripping her throat out with the other.  Alana had pulled the trigger a mere second later, and there was now a large hole in the ceiling.  That bullet had been meant for Will, and Hannibal knew that if he had not acted Will would be dead now instead of Alana.  He had had to choose between them, and he had made his choice. 

His eyes were glowing red, matching the color of the blood currently pooling around Alana’s head like a halo, as he observed the brothers’ reactions.  His breath was coming in short pants as he fought to halt and reverse the change that already had his clawed hands covered in gold and black fur, the set of claws on his right hand covered in blood.   

“Holy shit,” Matt said in total shock.  “You’re like us!” 

Hannibal smiled, showing an impressive set of fangs of his own.  “So I am.” 

[](http://imgbox.com/3rK4SBIM)     [](http://imgbox.com/CEMhMtlX)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you didn't see that coming.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented on that last chapter. That was a critical chapter, so I was especially interested to hear your thoughts, and you did not disappoint! 😊 
> 
> So, have you figured out how it’s going to end? Will it end in bloodshed as Matt and Hannibal battle it out over Will? Or are you expecting a happy ending, against all odds? Let’s find out right now.

“You’re like us,” Matt repeated, shaking his head in disbelief, looking like he was having a hard time wrapping his head around it.   “I was told that we were the only ones of our kind, and I believed it.  Why would my parents lie?”   

Hannibal knew how he was feeling.  His own emotions were all over the place right now, from feeling excited at finding out that there were others like him, to shock and sadness at knowing he had just killed a close friend and former lover.  The whole thing had seemed surreal from the moment he opened the door and saw Will and his brother in mid-transformation. 

“My parents led me to believe the same thing,” Hannibal finally responded, taking deep calming breaths to try and reverse the shift.  “It’s what they truly believed.  I have never run into others like us before.  Who would have guessed I would leave my own country and travel over five thousand miles to live here, only to then run into others of my own kind?  It’s incredible.  If there are others like us out there, they are understandably in hiding.”

Matthew tensed as he seemed to realize something.  “So, if you have never come across any others of our kind before, it would appear that you and I are both after an extremely rare commodity,” he said, making his meaning clear as he tightened his hold on Will and flashed his fangs.  Hannibal noticed that although Matthew’s change wasn’t progressing further at the moment, it wasn’t reversing itself either.  Will, on the other hand, seemed to be almost back to normal. 

“Matthew, the fact that I have never come across any others of our kind is also the reason why I just felt compelled to kill a very dear friend of mine to protect the two of you,” he said, driving home the point that he had just saved the man’s life, hoping to distract him from focusing on Will.  “I could not allow her to harm or report to the authorities the only others like myself that I may ever come across.” 

Hannibal needed to keep Matthew distracted and calm.  As such, he was avoiding looking at Will, even though he knew Will was probably in need of reassurance.  Matthew’s transition seemed to have stopped for the moment, but if he started getting upset it could trigger the change to start back up, and if Matthew fully transformed, then Hannibal would transform in order to defend himself, and one or both of them would most certainly end up dead.  He had seen Matthew in his leopard form and knew he would be formidable in a fight.  Besides, he now had plans for Will’s brother, and those plans required Matthew to remain alive and well.  He just needed him to remain calm long enough to listen while he laid his plans out.  And he thought he knew just how to get the other man’s attention. 

“I want to show you something, Matthew,” he said, moving sideways to his bookcase, being careful not to turn his back on the man.  

“I love you,” Will suddenly blurted out. 

Hannibal froze and looked at Will now.  He looked so vulnerable that Hannibal’s gut twisted. 

“You said it to me earlier today,” Will said, “and I had wanted to say it back—you have no idea how badly I wanted to say it—but I didn’t because I thought we had no chance of having a future together.  Now that I know we do, I want you to know that I do love you,” Will said in a rush. 

“I love you too, Will,” Hannibal said softly, eyes flicking to Matthew when he heard a low growl coming from the other alpha, who was now looking decidedly agitated, “and we will discuss this at length later on, I promise you,” Hannibal said quickly, “but first I need to show you both something before your brother does something rash.” 

Hannibal reached over and grabbed a picture off one of the shelves of the bookcase and tossed it to Will, maintaining his distance.  Will held the picture out in such a way that he and Matt could both look at it. 

It was a picture of a beautiful young woman who looked to be a bit younger than Hannibal, but she had the same hair color and eye color that he did.  Will had actually seen this picture in Hannibal’s room before and had meant to ask him about it, but with everything going on in his head he had forgotten.  There was a definite resemblance between the two, but Will couldn’t help but think that the woman looked a little sad. 

[](http://imgbox.com/zGzPFCH1)

"Who is she?" Will asked.  

“That is my younger sister, Mischa,” Hannibal said.  “My _omega_ sister,” he said, emphasizing the one word he knew would get Matt’s attention, and he was right.  Matt’s head snapped up and he was looking at him intently now. 

“Mischa and I grew up on our family estate in Lithuania with our parents.  We were a very close-knit family and she and I knew what we were from a very young age.  Then when I was 18 and Mischa was 15, four men broke into our home with the intention of robbing us, and shot my parents in their bed.  I heard the shots and I went and got Mischa and we hid, but then my anger triggered my transformation and I killed them all, tearing every single one of them to pieces one by one. 

I basically raised Mischa after that.  The Lecter estate has been in our family for generations and is a wealthy one, so money wasn’t an issue.  However, as Mischa matured and grew older she started craving companionship.  Our parents had warned us repeatedly what would happen if we fell in love with a human, but like most arrogant youths we both thought we would be the exceptions.  Mischa fell in love with a young man at the local college she was attending and ended up killing him.  She was heartbroken and sickened by what she had done and would hardly leave the estate after that, other than to attend school.  I had my share of mishaps as well, each time thinking that this time I would be strong enough to control the change.  I’m sure you went through something similar, Matthew,” he said, and Matthew nodded as the two alphas exchanged a kindred look. 

“But you can control it now,” Will interrupted.  “Alana pretty much stated that you and she have been intimate, and since she _was_ very much alive up to this point, I’m guessing you finally learned how to control it.” 

“I wouldn’t exactly describe it that way,” he said tentatively.  “How that came about was actually as a result of working at the zoo.  Two years ago a new drug came out that was made specifically for big cats that were overly aggressive.  These tended to be males who were bullying the others, or who had a higher than normal sex drive and wouldn’t leave the females alone.  These aggressive males would attack the adolescent males, and sometimes even the cubs.  This aggression led to fights, injuries and hefty vet bills, so this drug was designed to calm this aggression just a bit and take the edge off their sexual need just enough so they could function normally and live peacefully with the others of their kind.  It was either that or put them in cages by themselves, and cats live longer, happier, healthier lives with others of their own kind.   

“So one day I started thinking about the drug and its properties and wondered if would work similarly to calm my own particular cat and keep it in check.  So I decided to test the drug on myself.” 

“That was an awfully risky thing to do,” Will said.   

“It was.  But I’m sure your brother would agree with me that there comes a time when you get desperate enough to try anything,” he said, exchanging a look with Matt.  “I started out by using a very low dose, and then I tested the effects.” 

“Tested it how?” Will asked, frowning. 

“Not the way you’re thinking,” Hannibal said, smiling.  I, uh … actually rented a porn movie and locked myself in my basement and waited to see if the sexual stimulation would trigger the change.  Good thing I just used a movie because the low dose didn’t work and I changed.  So a week later I tried again and upped the dosage just a bit.  It still didn’t work.  It took me months of trial and error as I gradually increased the dosage; and then I discovered that even with the drug I still had to exert a certain amount of control when I felt any signs of the change still trying to take hold.  Then when I thought I had that down pat, I had to experiment with the frequency of taking the drug.  Once I was fairly certain I had the right combination of all of the above, then I admit that I did try it out with a stranger I met in a bar, and it worked.  So I’ve continued injecting myself with the drug ever since. 

“The only drawback is it slightly dulls some of my senses.  Since smell and taste are two senses that quickly trigger aggression and arousal in cats, dulling these senses is partly how the drug works.”

“That actually does make sense,” Will said. 

“I keep thinking that’s why I didn’t sense you.  I mean, thinking about it now, the signs were there.  Now that I know, it seems so clear.  The woman attacked in the massage parlor; another one attacked in a hotel room.  In both cases no one saw the cat enter or leave.  I should have known; I should have been able to sense that there was someone else out there like me.” 

“How could you when you didn’t think others even existed,” Will said softly. 

Hannibal nodded.  “Still, discovering what you are sooner might have saved the two of us a lot of angst,” he said wistfully, looking at Will.  “Anyway, where was I?” 

“Mischa,” Matt said, looking up from the picture Will was still holding. 

“Ah, yes,” Hannibal said, smiling.  He could see that Matthew was already intrigued by his sister.  “As I said, after the death of the man Mischa loved, she pretty much became a recluse, but that lead to loneliness, and her craving for a family and someone to love only got stronger.  Since she now realized she couldn’t have a child with a human without killing them, she started begging me to give her a child to love.  I’m … assuming your parents were related?” he asked tentatively.   

“Siblings,” Will said. 

Hannibal nodded with relief.  He figured as much since Matthew was trying to breed his own brother, but now that he was sure he felt better that his wasn’t the only incestuous family.  “Anyway, I could not bring myself to breed my own sister,” he continued, “especially since I had helped raise her.  She begged, even tried to seduce me when she would come into heat.  It was hard to resist her during those times.  I knew I was weakening, so I decided to leave, move far away, and I ultimately decided to come to America.  Even to this day Mischa calls me from time to time begging me to come home, to give her just one child to love.” 

“Why didn’t you just offer the drug to Mischa?” Will asked. 

“As I said, it only came out two years ago and it took me months to arrive at the right combination.  Plus, I wanted to wait a while and make sure no harmful side effects came to light later on.  What if it worked and she did get pregnant and it turned out the drug harmed the fetus?  Sometimes it takes years for patterns of harmful side effects to manifest, and I wanted to be sure it was completely safe before giving my sister the option of using it.” 

Will nodded.  He actually loved how protective Hannibal was of his family. 

“Mischa needs someone to love and to give her what I cannot, Matthew, and it seems like you need someone too.  I understand you thought your brother was your only option, just as my sister thinks I am her only option—but now there’s another.   

“In addition, you’re wanted by the law for murder.  Sergeant Crawford is a determined man and will never stop looking for you.  You’ll be on the run for the rest of your life, constantly looking over your shoulder and being hunted until they capture you or kill you.  If they capture you, then you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison.  Worse, if your secret is found out, then they’ll want to experiment on you.  But not if you let me help you.  I can get you out of this country and get you into Lithuania where you’ll be a free man, and you and Mischa can live together happily on our family estate.  It’s beautiful there, Matthew.  The house sits on a hundred acres, much of it wooded, so you’ll have lots of privacy.  Mischa and I used to spend hours out in those woods together playing and communing with nature.” 

“And just how would you get me out of the country?” Matt asked, cautious but most definitely looking interested. 

“Well, I couldn’t get a wanted felon out of the country.” 

When he saw Matt’s face fall he said, “However, as the curator of the New Orleans Zoo, I would be able to ship a black leopard out of the country.  It would take little effort on my part to ship you to Lithuania make arrangements for my sister to pick you up there.  You would be free, Matt.  Free in every sense of the word.  Free to be who you are with someone who is like you and understands you and who needs you every bit as much as you need her.” 

“That’s genius!” Will said excitedly.  “Oh my god, Mattie, that would actually work!” 

Matt finally removed his arm from around Will and Will took a step to the side, looking between his brother and the man he loved, feeling hopeful that they could all have a happy life.  Mattie had had it rough growing up and deserved to be happy too after everything he had been through. 

“Well, how do you know your sister would even like me?” Matt asked, looking uncertain. 

Hannibal smiled.  “Well, I could call her right now and let the two of you chat, if you like,” he said, looking toward the phone and giving Matt a questioning look. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Matt nodded. 

Hannibal fortunately had installed a speakerphone in his bedroom so that if the zoo called with an emergency he could quickly dress while they gave him an overview of the situation.  He hit the speaker button now and dialed a long series of numbers.  Then they all waited with bated breath while the phone rang. 

_Ring … ring … ring … ring …_

By the fourth ring Hannibal was starting to get nervous.  If Mischa was outside or away, then things might revert back to a standstill with Matthew. 

_“_ _Sveiki?“_

Hannibal closed his eyes briefly in relief at the sound of his sister’s voice. 

“Hello, Mischa.  It’s your brother calling,” he said, speaking in English so Matthew wouldn’t get suspicious.   

_“Hannibal!”_ she shrieked, causing them all to jump.  _“It’s been ages since you’ve called!”_ she said, automatically reverting to English as well. 

“I know, my darling, but work has been keeping me extremely busy.” 

_“Too busy to call your only family?”_ she said, with a pout in her voice. 

“I know.  But I’m going to make it up to you right now.  I have wonderful news, darling.” 

_“What news?  Are you finally coming home?  That would be the best news you could give me.”_

Hannibal rolled his eyes and looked pointedly at Will and Matt as if to say “see?”  Matthew was staring at the phone in fascination with his head cocked.  Hannibal was relieved to see his transformation was clearly reversing now as he concentrated on the musical lilt of Mischa’s voice. 

“No, I’m not coming home right now, but I will soon, I promise.” 

_“Oh, Hannibal, I swear sometimes I think you don’t love me anymore,”_ came the mournful, dramatic reply, making them all smile. 

“Listen, my darling, I’m not alone.” 

After a few seconds of silence she tentatively said, _“Who’s there with you?”_  

“That’s my news.  Mischa, I found two others like us.” 

When several seconds of shocked silence went by, the news having apparently rendered Mischa speechless, Hannibal said, “It’s true!  I didn’t think it possible, but they are like us!” 

_“When you say ‘like us,’ do you mean … Lithuanian?”_ she asked pointedly, and Will could tell she was being cautious. 

“No, Mischa.  I mean they can change into leopards.  Although they’re not exactly like us.  They’re not spotted leopards like us, they’re black leopards as their bloodline originated in South America.  Two brothers.  I’ve seen the alpha change and I can tell you he’s an extremely handsome leopard.” 

Hannibal glanced up at Matthew and saw he was blushing at the compliment.   

Mischa’s gasp was audible over the phone.  _“An alpha?  Hannibal, please tell me this isn’t a joke!  I don’t think I could bear it!”_ she said, sounding equal parts excited and anxious. 

“I would never do that to you, my darling.  They’re here with me right now.  Let me introduce you to them.  First is Will.  He’s an omega, and I was already madly in love with him before I even knew what he was,” he said, glancing over at him. 

“Hello, Mischa,” Will said, giving Hannibal a sweet look in return. 

“And then we have Matthew, his alpha brother.  Please say hello to my sister, Matthew.” 

“Hello, Mischa,” he started off awkwardly.  “It’s…very nice speaking to you.  And I can assure you that what your brother is telling you is true.” 

_“Oh…my…GOD!”_   Mischa shrieked so loud they all jumped again. 

Matthew smiled and seemed to gain encouragement by her reaction.  “All these years I thought my brother and I were the only ones of our kind.  I can’t believe that there are others like us.” 

_“I know what you mean,”_ Mischa jumped in excitedly.  _“It’s so hard being different and keeping what we are secret.  Then Hannibal moved away and I’ve been so lonely being all by myself.”_

“I know what you mean,” Matt said.  “Will and I were separated when we were children, and for sixteen years I was alone too.” 

_“Oh, you poor thing!”_ Mischa sympathized. 

“Mischa, darling,” Hannibal cut in.  “I have some things I wish to discuss with Will in private, so why don’t you and Matthew talk for a while and get to know each other.  Then I’ll call you back later on about possibly having Matthew come to Lithuania to visit you.  Would you like that, darling?” 

_“Like it?  I would LOVE it,”_ she said, practically purring, and Hannibal saw that Matthew was blushing again.  He also noticed that he was almost fully human again. 

Hannibal picked up the receiver and handed it to Matt.  He then went to take Will’s elbow and looked at Matthew with a raised eyebrow.  Matt looked a bit uncertain, looking between Will and the receiver. 

“Mattie, I love him,” Will said softly.  “I love him and I want to be with him.” 

Matt looked at Will briefly; then looked at Hannibal and nodded.  He sat on the bed with his back against the headboard and said, “I’m here, Mischa” into the mouthpiece.  Hannibal could hear Mischa chatting away happily.  If he knew his sister—and he did—she would keep Matt on the phone for at least an hour.  Mischa had always been an extremely outgoing and vivacious omega, and she needed someone in her life.  Matthew was also lonely and desperate for love.  If this worked out, the two of them would be perfect for each other. 

He led Will out of the room, stepping around Alana’s body, and closed the door behind him.  Killing Alana had been an unfortunate turn of events and he would mourn her loss, both as a coworker and a friend, but she had left him no choice.  He could not let her kill two of his kind right at the moment he had discovered them.  The body would have to be dealt with, but not right now.  Right now Hannibal had other things on his mind. 

He pulled Will down two flights of stairs and into a large open basement and closed and locked the door.  “You said you had some things to figure out.  I’m assuming that this was the issue and that it’s no longer a problem now?” 

“Before I came back to New Orleans I had no idea what I was.  Then when I found out, I was already falling in love with you but was told that if I became intimate with a human I would kill them.  I couldn’t have lived with myself if that had happened,” he said, stroking the side of Hannibal’s face.  “Because I love you, Hannibal Lecter.  I love you, I love you, I love you—“

Will’s words were cut off by a bruising kiss as Hannibal wrapped his arm around Will and brought their bodies together while kissing him breathless. 

When they came up for air Hannibal said, “Well I certainly like the sound of that and hope it won’t be the last time you say it.” 

“I love you, Hannibal,” Will said, wrapping his arms around Hannibal neck and lavishing his face and throat with kisses.  Hannibal kissed him back passionately, and Will felt that telltale sizzle starting along his spine that he now knew signaled the beginning of the change.  But he wasn’t afraid now.  He knew what was happening and he knew he was safe with Hannibal.  Plus, he wanted this.  He had wanted it for a while now, so he pressed himself against Hannibal and kissed him wantonly. 

Will yipped and pulled back briefly, tasting blood on his lip.  When he looked at Hannibal he could see his fangs had lengthened and he must have caught his lip on one of those fangs.  He also saw the beautiful gold and black hair starting to sprout all over Hannibal’s body and that his eyes were glowing. 

“Wait, I thought you couldn’t transform while you’re on that drug?” 

“As I mentioned, it requires a fair amount of self-control as well, and trust me, there will be no self-control exerted down here in this basement, so tell me now if you want me to stop.” 

“Self-control is seriously overrated,” Will answered, ripping at Hannibal’s clothes while Hannibal immediately started doing the same to him.  There was no need for politeness or civility here, not now.  That was for humans.  For creatures such as they, take away the civility and humanity and you’re left with base animal instinct and need.   

He could feel Hannibal’s claws grazing over his body every now and then, and the primitive feel of it just fueled his growing lust. 

He looked down at his own hands while they pulled at Hannibal’s pants and paused, mesmerized as they did not look like hands any longer, but claws coated in shiny black fur. 

When they were both gloriously naked, Will found he could not stand on two legs any longer.  He fell onto his front paws and felt the change consume him fully for the first time.  There was pain involved as his body rearranged itself, but then he felt suddenly free, like a butterfly bursting out of its chrysalis after a long period of dormancy.  His mind was no longer thinking in human terms, it was all sensory.  Taste, touch, sight, sound, and smell were all enhanced, and right now every one of those senses was focused on the beautiful spotted leopard currently licking his face.  Leopard Will made a soft huffing sound as his senses all deemed this other leopard worthy to be his mate.  He purred with excitement as the spotted leopard circled behind him and scented the source of his growing need.  He mewled his encouragement, and then the leopard was climbing on his back, biting into the back of his neck.  He crouched down and moved his tail to the side in submission, allowing the alpha leopard access to his body. 

As their bodies came together for the first time, Will roared with happiness.  He had always thought he felt free as a human, but he now realized how mistaken he had been.  Humans are caged by their fear, their insecurity and doubts.  Will felt none of these.  He was driven by pure instinct and raw need.  Never before in his life had he felt so alive, so free, so sure of himself, and so completely and utterly comfortable in his own skin as he did right now.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope I engendered enough sympathy for Matt that you guys didn’t want him to die. I thought he deserved to have a happy ending as well. I also hope adding Mischa was another nice surprise. Only one chapter left to wrap it all up. -EA


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for the final chapter of “Cat People.”

**_One week later -- Vilnius International Airport, 5.9 km south of the capital city of Vilnius in Lithuania_ **

Vilnius Airport is the largest of the four commercial airports in Lithuania in terms of number of passengers; therefore, traffic was heavy as Mischa made her way slowly, and impatiently, past the major airline pick-up points to the end of the airport where she was to meet the cargo plane that Hannibal had made arrangements with to fly one black leopard from New Orleans to Lithuania.  Dangerous animals are not permitted to be flown in the cargo hold of regular commercial flights with passengers, a fact she had not known, but it actually did make sense.  However, by Hannibal working at a zoo, her brother had done this before and knew all the ins and outs of shipping animals and had taken care of the arrangements in a remarkably short period of time. 

As she drove onto the tarmac she cursed in Lithuanian as she spotted the plane already on the ground, forklifts going in and out unloading its cargo.  She had wanted to arrive before the plane landed so she could have Matthew’s cage unloaded from the plane immediately and put directly into the back of the pick-up truck she had rented, but she wasn’t used to city traffic and the drive here had taken much longer than she anticipated. 

As she parked the truck, her heart was pounding and she was practically vibrating with excitement.  She had never dared to hope that that there were others like her out there, and now she was going to meet one!  A part of her was worried that she had dreamed the whole thing and when she reached the cargo plane and indicated she was here to pick up the leopard she would be met with perplexed looks.  Yet she had spoken to her brother just last night to confirm that Matthew— _such a wonderful name!_ —had been loaded onto the plane and that Hannibal and his new mate had watched it take off on time eleven-and-a-half hours ago.  Will had gotten on the phone with her then and made her promise to call just as soon as she got home from the airport to let them know that everything had gone smoothly and that his brother had arrived safely. 

She hadn’t been able to sleep a wink last night in her excitement. 

She took a deep calming breath and got out of the truck, heading toward the plane.  She tilted her head back and smiled as the bright, warm, sunny day reflected her mood perfectly.   

Looking around, she saw no signs of the cage on the tarmac, so either it hadn’t been unloaded yet or it was in the open hanger straight ahead.   Heading for the hanger, she smoothed her white polo shirt which had a logo for the Vilnius Wildlife Sanctuary displayed above her left breast.  It was a fake name, of course, but it made her look official.  She was also wearing a beige baseball cap with the same logo, her golden blonde hair shoved up underneath it, a pair of beige-colored pants, and white sneakers.  Hannibal had told her to look professional, but as nondescript as possible.  He had provided her with all the documentation she would need and had instructed her on what to expect and how to act when she picked Matthew up. 

Taking another deep breath, she approached a man holding a clipboard who looked to be in charge of unloading.  “Hello,” she said walking up to him.  “I’m here to pick up a black leopard.  Has he been unloaded yet?” 

_Act with authority,_ her brother had instructed. 

“You must be … Pamela Ti’doro from the Vilnius Wildlife Sanctuary,” he said as he consulted his clipboard, his eyes flicking to the logo on her shirt. 

“I am,” Mischa said, smiling, and handing over the documents Hannibal had provided.  Pamela Ti’doro was a fake name her brother had come up with.  It was actually an anagram for “I’m a leopard too,” which appealed greatly to Mischa’s sense of humor. 

“Yeah, it’s over there,” the man said, pointing his thumb over his right shoulder toward a corner of the hanger while he looked over the documents she provided.  “Nasty piece of work, that cat.” 

“What do you mean?” Mischa said, tensing up, a slight warning tingle going down her spine, and she made an effort to calm down.  Her protective instincts towards Matthew were already coming to the surface.  Over the last week she had spoken to him on the phone every single day.  They had spent literally hours and hours just talking and getting to know one another, so much so that she felt like she had known him her entire life. 

“One of my guys lifted a corner of the tarp off the cage—you know, just to check on it, make sure it was all right after the long flight—and the damn thing was trying to get its paw through the bars to rip his face off.” 

“Oh,” Mischa said, turning her face away and coughing into her hand until the inappropriate smile that was making her lips twitch was contained.  So Matthew was feisty—she liked that.  “Well, he’s been in captivity for a long time, repressed, controlled, unable to act on his instincts like a leopard should.  It’s the Vilnius Wildlife Sanctuary’s hope that putting him in a more natural environment where he’ll be free to be who he was born to be will make him a happier, more well-adjusted cat.  That’s my hope anyway,” she said smiling at the man, meaning every word of it.  “My pick-up is over there,” she added quickly, “so if you can have the cage loaded, I will take him off your hands.” 

_Get in and out as quickly as you can,_ her brother had said.  

“Gladly.  Just sign these forms and he’s all yours,” the man said, handing over the clipboard. 

Mischa quickly signed the paperwork “Pamela Ti’doro” and handed the clipboard back.  The cage was still sitting on one of the forklifts, so the driver just had to drive it over and set it into the back of her truck.  After thanking the forklift driver and making sure the cage was secure, she took off quickly, giggling nervously, feeling like she was in an episode of _Mission Impossible_.  Per Hannibal’s instructions, she had picked up a set of license plates from a local auto junkyard and switched out the rental truck’s plates.  She would switch them back before she returned the truck.  If anyone should ever try to trace this particular leopard, it will seem to have disappeared without a trace. 

A good half hour later when she was well away from the city, she pulled the truck over into a deserted-looking rest stop.  She was still over an hour from home but she couldn’t stand to wait any longer.  She needed to see him. 

Looking around, double checking to make sure they were alone, she opened the tailgate to the pick-up and climbed into the truck bed.  Kneeling in front of the cage, she untied the tarp and flipped it up. 

The leopard was pressed against the back of the cage, blinking against the sudden light, showing his fangs and growling softly in warning. 

“Ohhhhh!” Mischa exclaimed, looking at the emerald green eyes and the sleek coat that glistened like black silk in the sun.  “You are _magnificent_ ,” she said with awe.  She wrapped her small hands around the bars of the cage and inched closer, already feeling a connection between them.  “It’s me, Matthew.  It’s Mischa.” 

The leopard’s body language relaxed as he stared at her with unblinking eyes for a couple of seconds; then he stood up and moved toward her and bumped his head gently against the bars in front of her.  Mischa put her hands between the bars, needing to touch him, and stroked the sides of his neck.  His fur was warm and silky.  She inhaled his wild, enticingly exotic scent and felt her inner leopard roar with approval and her inner omega rejoice with happiness.  The leopard sat down and angled his head back so she had better access to his neck, and she laughed her musical laugh.  “You like that, don’t you, Matthew?  Well there’s plenty more where that came from, I can promise you that,” she said seductively.  “Now, let’s get you home so you can change into something … less furry,” she said smiling.    

He started to purr as he regarded her.  It was love at first sight for both of them. 

 

**_One year later_ **

“Femolly, we’re home,” Will shouted as he followed Hannibal through the door and closed it behind him, entering the newly decorated entry room of the Brown home. 

After talking it over, they had decided to sell Hannibal’s home and live here at the Brown house because it had a lot more space than Hannibal’s house, and it had been in Will’s family for over a hundred years.  The house had been given a much-needed makeover from top to bottom, inside and out, and now everything was warm and inviting. 

They had turned the basement into the master bedroom.  Will had had the cage and chains removed and hauled away, and with it a negative part of his family’s past.  He had had new walls and new flooring installed, making sure the room was well insulated and soundproofed.  Then he had used his skills as an artist to paint murals on all four walls of jungle trees and plants.  There was no furniture in the master bedroom, just a single mattress on the floor.  There was a large walk-in closet that contained everything else they needed; plus, there was an adjoining master bath with an extra-large tub.  Having it set up like this prevented furniture damage when Will and Hannibal got amorous and transformed, which, quite frankly, happened a lot.  

“You’re home just in time,” Femolly said, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on her apron, walking through the dining room to greet them.  “Supper be ready in ten minutes, so you go wash the animal stink off you, ‘cause I can smell you been playing with them cats again, Will.  Supper be on the table when you’re done,” she said, heading back toward the kitchen.    

“She always knows when I’ve been playing with the cats,” Will said, looking over at Hannibal. 

“That’s because you play with the cats every day, Will.  And that long scratch on your arm is a dead giveaway,” he said.  “Who scratched you, by the way?” 

“Oh, that was Khan, the tiger.  I was wrestling with Sheba and he came up behind me and jumped on me.  I think he was trying to get a bit frisky, if you know what I mean.  Anyway, he didn’t mean to scratch me,” Will said dismissively.” 

“Well I know I certainly feel frisky when I’m around you,” Hannibal said, pulling him close and nuzzling his neck, “so who can blame Khan.”  

“Play your cards right and maybe I’ll scratch you behind your ears tonight,” Will purred, carding a hand through his hair and lightly grazing the skin behind his left ear with his nails in demonstration. 

“And what if I have an itch that needs scratching that’s considerably lower?” Hannibal said, taking Will’s hand and moving it down his chest and lower.  “Will you scratch that itch too?”

“Well if you have an itch down there, it’s possible you caught fleas from those mangy hyenas and I should probably stay as far away from you as possible,” Will said, backing away teasingly. 

Hannibal pulled him back to him and whispered huskily in his ear, “It’s not that kind of itch,” before kissing him soundly. 

“Every time I come in here you two be pawing each other like a couple of cats in heat!” Femolly said, entering the dining room with a large tureen and setting it on the table.  “I tell you to go clean up, and here you both stand in the hallway making out like a pair of horny teenagers who ain’t got no good sense,” she said, placing her hands on her hips.  “Will, a letter arrived from that no-account brother of yours.  It’s on the table there,” she said, motioning to a carved walnut console table in the hallway.  Then she headed back into the kitchen again. 

“You know, I’m starting to think we should have saved the exorbitant amount of money we paid for that over-priced lawyer and left her in jail,” Hannibal said, making no attempt to lower his voice. 

“I heard that!” came a reply from the kitchen. 

Will put his hand over his mouth to contain his laughter.  “You know she has the ears of a cat.  Besides, you’re addicted to her cooking, don’t deny it.” 

“I know.  Sometimes I wonder if I picked the right mate,” he said, sighing dramatically. 

“Oh really?” Will said, playfully smacking him 

“You know my heart belongs to you and you alone,” Hannibal said, standing behind Will and wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his temple.  “However, my stomach has a mind of its own.  Now, let’s see what your brother has to say since my sister can’t seem to find the time to call me anymore.” 

“Sure, first you complain she calls too much; now you complain she calls too little.  You just can’t please some people,” Will said, looking back over his shoulder as Hannibal held him tighter and nibbled his jaw. 

Despite the nibbling, Will grabbed the letter excitedly and ripped it open.  It was a short letter and he held it in such a way that Hannibal could read it over his shoulder.    

“Oh my god, they’re expecting!” Will screeched, jumping up and down, forcing Hannibal to turn him loose.   

“What’s this foolishness then?” Femolly said, coming out of the kitchen carrying fresh bread and butter and setting them on the table.  “I swear you making enough noise to wake the dead.” 

“Matt and Mischa are pregnant!” Will said to the woman. 

“Well it’s nice somebody is making some babies in their household,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking pointedly between the two of them.  “I was lookin’ forward to taking care of me some babies in my old age, but I guess that ain’t gonna happen.  You both too busy with your careers and schooling to make me some babies.”   

“Should we tell her?” Will said, looking up at Hannibal and smiling. 

“Tell me what?” Femolly said, dropping her hands to her sides and looking between them expectantly. 

“Well, as it so happens, it looks like there’s going to be the patter of tiny furry feet in this household as well,” Will said, putting a hand on his stomach and smiling fondly at the woman. 

Femolly’s eyes got big, and for a moment it looked like she was going to shout with joy, but then she schooled her features and said, “Well, it’s about time.  Now you two get in here before my Crawfish and Shrimp Etouffee that I been slaving over all day get cold.” 

“Mmmm, I do love fish,” Will said, licking his lips with his pink tongue. 

“And I do love you,” Hannibal whispered, pulling Will in for a kiss.  He had a hard time keeping his hands off his mate, and Will smelled even more amazing now that he was pregnant.  If he wasn’t still taking the drug, he would probably be shifting constantly.  Even with the drug it was hard to control it when Will was anywhere near him.  Fortunately, Will seemed to have much better control over his inner cat. 

“You go on to the dining room,” Will said.  “I still have to wash my hands.” 

On his way to the bathroom, Will stopped at a picture that was featured prominently on the hallway wall.  It was a picture that used to hang in Matt’s room of their parents in their circus garb smiling and looking happy.  Will often stood in front of the picture and talked to his parents.  He felt their presence in this house, which is another reason he wanted to stay here. 

Over the past year he had told them about how Hannibal was taking a pharmacology course two nights a week at the local college while he continued to work on perfecting a drug to prevent unwanted shifting.  They were both determined to make sure that their children had options when they grew up, something that he and Hannibal and Matt and Mischa had not had. 

Will had told them about going back to school full-time ten months ago so he could get a degree in zoology, and how he was now working at the New Orleans Zoo as Hannibal’s assistant.  He told them that while still in school he had used his artistic skills to design new, more appealing brochures and posters for the zoo.  During the same time he had also written and illustrated a children’s book about the adventures of a little leopard named Guillermo who runs away from the circus and gets lost in a big city.  He found a book company willing to publish it, and the book was doing quite well.  It was actually a big seller in the zoo’s gift show.

But perhaps the biggest piece of news he had told his parents was when he and Hannibal had discussed different ways to try and get in touch with other “cat people,” if there were any others out there, and decided on a plan.  Once Will started working full-time at the zoo as Hannibal’s assistant, they decided to put on an exhibition one day a week where Will would actually go into one of the cages with the big cats and interact with them while giving an informative talk to the audience about them.  It had to be Will because he had shown that he had an incredible amount of empathy with the cats, even in his human form.  He could read their mood and tell when they were safe to be with and when they were not.  So if the tigers just happened to be in a foul mood that particular day, he would go into the lion cage instead, and vice-versa.  Plus, the male cats were much more relaxed and less threatened by Will with his omega scent. 

Hannibal would stand outside the cage with the audience and help answer questions, but his main function was to keep the crowd from getting rowdy and upsetting the cats while Will was in there.  Chilton had nearly had a stroke when he found out what they were doing, but these demonstrations had been a huge success.  Crowds swarmed to the zoo on the days Will did these exhibitions.  They were so successful that the Audubon Zoo kept making Will offers to try and steal him away from the New Orleans Zoo. 

They were so popular, in fact, that they had been featured in newspapers and on TV, which had actually been their main goal.  The press had ironically dubbed Will _The Lion Tamer_ , because the the first newspaper that came to see Will had seen him in the lion cage that day, and then the title had stuck even though he worked with other big cats.  It was ironic because that’s what his father was called when he worked at the circus. 

But the reason Will and Hannibal had hoped to get media exposure was in the hope that if other cat people saw Will in these news broadcasts, which had been picked up worldwide due to its human interest appeal, that they might recognize Will for what he was and try and contact them.  And sure enough, two months after the first broadcast they had been contacted by a woman in China who seemed a bit nervous at first, but then who explained to them in broken English that she was descended from an Amur leopard, which was incredible.  Her last name was Katz, which Will found highly amusing, and she had a one-year-old omega daughter named Beverly.  

Will and Hannibal planned to go visit the woman in a few months.  And if there was one, there must be others.  They were not alone. 

Will now told his parents the latest news about Mattie and Mischa.  He had already told them that he and Hannibal were expecting.    

“So you see, mom and dad, we’re all doing fine. Our family is expanding now, but we know we’re not alone.  There are others like us out there, other cat people, so you don’t have to worry about us … or your grandchildren, for that matter.  Your legacy is in good hands.”

He then kissed the tips of his fingers and touched the picture lovingly, whispering “I love you.” 

_“WILL, THE FOOD BE GETTING COLD!!”_

“And, as you can hear,” he added, smiling wryly, “Femolly is doing fine as well.” 

_“I’M COMING!”_ he yelled back, as he ran to the bathroom and quickly washed his hands before joining his family for dinner. 

 

 ~ The End ~

(scroll down for pictures)

 

[](http://imgbox.com/L2GN7PmP)  [](http://imgbox.com/hrLQ2EHi)

[](http://imgbox.com/gnoM4Xkj)  [](http://imgbox.com/yzm6v3EK)

[](http://imgbox.com/i5Hm39mp)  [](http://imgbox.com/TVoltIzv)

[](http://imgbox.com/z55b2I5p)

[](http://imgbox.com/HeokDPvi)

[](http://imgbox.com/ULnJBkj1)

[](http://imgbox.com/7uoS98Xs)

 

I also highly recommend you google and listen to David Bowie's incredible movie soundtrack song entitled "Putting Out The FIre.":

(I tried to put a link in here but couldn't figure it out! :p)  

[](http://imgbox.com/UwWAf7Va)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that concludes this story. I hope you enjoyed it. I want to thank you for following along with me to the end. I also want to thank you for your kudos and comments. A big, extra special thank you to my regular commenters, those of you who took the time to leave me comments and encouragement throughout this story. You guys hold a special place in my heart, you really do. 💛 Until next time… - EA


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